On Blizzardammerung

On Friday, the world knew, an apocalyptic snowstorm was coming.

It was coming up the jet stream, from the south. We could see fifteen inches, twenty-four inches, perhaps even forty inches of snow. A winter storm warning was issued from 10 am Friday to 10 pm Saturday.

Some thought the office would be closed on Friday. Some called it, in hushed tones, “snowpocalypse” or “snowmaggedon.” I thought these words over-used. I coined my own neologism — “blizzardammerung.” A touch of the Wagner, really.

The snow started to fall about noon on Friday. Lightly at first, then growing steadily heavier. There wasn’t anything to be concerned about at that point; the temperature was still nicely above freezing. Anything that touched the ground melted. The world was wet, not white.

I left the office about three. Trudged the two blocks to the light rail station, rode the train home. It was pretty.

The snow picked up. It fell, harder and harder and harder. Giant flakes. Monstrous flakes.

I went to bed. There might’ve been three inches on the ground.

I woke up about four. I heard thunder. Thunder and snow — a bad combination.

I looked out the bedroom window. I couldn’t see anything. Perhaps, the storm had fizzled out?

No, it turned out. The snow had changed over to fine, heavy snow. There must’ve been a foot or more outside.

The snow continued to fall unabated.

Twenty inches. Twenty-four inches. Thirty inches. Thirty-six inches. Records were shattered.

Blizzardammerung, as I called it, ended about four o’clock Saturday afternoon. The sky cleared off. There was a gorgeous sunset.

This is what the storm looked like from orbit — a vast expanse of white along the mid-Atlantic. It looks like Lancaster, Pennsylvania, where I lived ten years ago, was especially hard hit.

Sunday, I started digging out.

Snow is heavy. Snow to the depth of four feet is especially heavy. I ache. I’m sore. I could dig for days and weeks and still not escape the house. I’m still not done.

The office may be open today. Or it may be closed. I really have no idea. The office phone system is down. So is the office e-mail system. The governor wants people to stay off the roads today. That’s okay; I still need to dig out more before I can reach the roads.

We’re to have more snow on Tuesday and Wednesday. Five, maybe ten inches.

I am tired of snow.

Published by Allyn

A writer, editor, journalist, sometimes coder, occasional historian, and all-around scholar, Allyn Gibson is the writer for Diamond Comic Distributors' monthly PREVIEWS catalog, used by comic book shops and throughout the comics industry, and the editor for its monthly order forms. In his over ten years in the industry, Allyn has interviewed comics creators and pop culture celebrities, covered conventions, analyzed industry revenue trends, and written copy for comics, toys, and other pop culture merchandise. Allyn is also known for his short fiction (including the Star Trek story "Make-Believe,"the Doctor Who short story "The Spindle of Necessity," and the ReDeus story "The Ginger Kid"). Allyn has been blogging regularly with WordPress since 2004.

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