“Cold Weather Coming”
Cold weather is coming.
I shiver at the mere thought.
I remember growing up
in eastern Idaho, a few miles
from the windy Snake River.
Winter there is like none other.
As kids, we didn’t know the difference.
We knew it was cold
because mom warned us
to bundle up in our snowmobile suits,
beanies, yellow fuzzy gloves,
snow pacs, and maybe a scarf.
Often, we had to shovel
our way to the barn
through tall snow drifts,
and a biting wind,
the wind chill hovering at -30.
We milked the cow, chipped ice
so we could water the animals.
We let them drink, chipped more,
and let them drink again.
After chores, we readied for school.
Seldom, if ever did a snow day come.
We just bundled up and waited
for the bus to turn the corner,
and we raced outside, just in time.
Our yellow Blue Bird buses
were tough, snow tires and all.
We just plowed through, unloaded
in front of the school, and raced
for the warm classroom.
Cold days were just a way of life for us.
We complained, but we still played
outside, made snow forts,
had snowball fights
when the weather allowed
for decent snowballs,
went sledding and tubing,
being pulled behind
the old white station
with a long nylon rope,
and we shoveled a lot of snow.
Now, that I think back, I realize
the fun we had, not realizing
how dangerously cold
it really was for us to be out.
We were kids. Who cared?
Now adults, we see it differently.
Maybe we shouldn’t.
Instead, when it snows,
we should be the first ones
to tromp outside, flop down
into the deepest snow,
and make the first snowman,
dismissing the cold
like we do a spam telephone call.
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