We all seem so easily reset, literally rebooted at the commencement of every winter to delve into and then passionately appreciate with explosive delight the first snowfall, first hoarfrost, first ice storm. These are all forms of inclemency that cause groans and consternation later in winter when the cost/benefit analysis has been scrutinized: shovelling, backache, rust, slip & fall, salt stains, more rust. Yet, when first we perceive it, the snow is so beautiful and begs to be photographed. Get the tripod, remember how to deploy it, ouch, not that way you idiot, need a lens hood to keep the snow off the lens even though it never achieves that function because it's meant to keep out the sun, not the flakes. Maybe wait until daylight and forget about time exposure. What if it melts? Will it be sunny in the morning? Probably not. There's a lot to think about. Maybe I should look up to make sure an overburdened tree limb is not about to collapse with me standing under it. Come March, we should all be much less enchanted by it all.
I missed the bright sunny New Year's Day that we usually have. This time it was dismal because it was dismal before January 1st and dismal afterwards as well. Maybe that's why we take those photos. We need to be reminded of the snowfalls that
did seem magical and part of the stage setting for a fairy tale in order to compensate, to a degree, for those that fizzle.
