Far beyond frozen

Great White Dispatch
Notes From Damn Near Canada
No. 11
12/18/08
1232


Urban homeless people refer to winter as The Wolf because of the remorseless way it chews you up and spits you out. Here in Minnesota, the Wolf is finally upon us.

Cold doesn't even approach describing exactly what the last few days have been like. Freezing doesn't quite get there, either. This kind of cold just bullies you, slaps you in the face and sits on your chest, reveling in the fact that there ain't a damn thing you can do about it.

Saturday afternoon, it was 47 degrees at 1pm. By 4pm, we were down to 19 degrees. By seven there were no degrees at all. To recap: We had a 47-degree temperature drop in six hours. It was amazing. I literally watched as the mercury fell. It was so cold these last few days that today's miraculous heatwave, a jump to the sweltering 12 degrees, felt like one of those random 45-degree days in Ohio in February. Running errands this afternoon, I left my coat unzipped. Too sweaty. Of course, the temp seems to be dropping again as I type, and more cold and snow is on the way.

This kind of cold plays on my mental health. Too many things go wrong in the cold. Water flash-freezes. Pipes burst. Electricity stops with no warning (like it did to us on Monday, the coldest night of the year - my birthday. Thank god for a fireplace and two warm dogs). Cars fail to start, garage doors fail to open. It's like the molecules give up and go to sleep. Not good for my mindset, wondering every morning if I have to get up and jump vehicles.

On the other hand, these frigid conditions make for some beautiful images. The entirety of the outside is nothing but crisp white beauty. The snow doesn't melt and make everything a sloppy gray, Ohio mess. The extra fluffy snow (so far) is worth the effort. Tuesday night we saw four-inches dump on us during rush hour. That kind of bulk usually makes for some gut-twisting, knuckle-whitening drives, but the snow had nothing to stick to. There was a ton of it on the roads, but it was just bouncing around. Getting out of your way, almost...polite. It was like driving through herds of tiny sheep, or stepping through a thick blanket of dry-ice smoke. Bizarre and hypnotic.

The animals have vanished, which makes me sad. Sure, the lack of deer everywhere makes for some undisturbed, picturesque landscapes, but I actually worry that they're ok. Nothing is meant to survive long in this kind of weather. Even Tilly, the biggest proponent of the outdoors I know, refuses to go out there. Dragging here by the ears to the door for a pee-break gets old. Germans, it seems, aren't big fans of the cold. Who knew?

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go give the cars a precautionary afternoon starting. Just to wake the molecules.