A posting from 2011, when we were waiting for yet another storm, as we are tonight, waiting again.
Which is the most exciting phase of a Northeastern storm, such as the one that was inflicted on us a few days ago? Is it the preparation for (and approach of) the calamity? Or the actual storm itself? Or is it the aftermath as we try to get out of the mess, opening little pathways in the snow, getting the car cleaned, and returning back to normalcy?
The question may seem an odd one, given that the minute the whole thing is over and we return to our ways, we want to forget the storm and its relative severity. But while they last, storms have a strange, eerie way of taking us to the edge of things and then tossing us back into the thick of life. (I say this as someone who knew nothing of storms and nature’s other ferocities until my mid-twenties. My first experience of the fury…
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