The Worst.

I ain’t afraid of snow. It ain’t done nothing to me, didn’t take my da or my ma, never trapped me nowhere. I just don’t like it, and don’t like how it’s coming down and covering my front yard.

 It’s cold, for one. A seeping cold, gets into you and goes deeper and deeper until you realize how far it’s already in, like sadness. Depression. Those sorta things. They’re wintery. Snowy. Bitey, I guess. Don’t like that neither. Chilly’s okay. That crisp air in the fall when the leaves ain’t quite sure if they’re meant to be falling yet or not. That’s good. I like the spring too, when it’s just starting to get warm and the birds are all confused.

Snow, nah. I’ll pass. It’s watchful, too. I don’t mean like I think it’s watching me. I mean there’s a record. You step in it, that’s there, whole area can see it. Don’t care if I ain’t up to anything, just don’t like folks seeing everything I’ve been doing. If you go out and let them see you and your day any day you ain’t been up to something, they gonna know you misbehaving when you ain’t out there.

Too quiet, too. You know what I mean. Goes with the watchfulness. It’s still and waiting. Waiting for what, I ask you? Ain’t about to let it be waiting for me. I’ve seen movies. When it all looks still and safe, it ain’t. It ain’t safe when it’s all restless out either, but that’s a different sort of danger. Less tense, yeah?  Lightning and thunder ain’t lurking. They’re there. Flashing and banging.

The whole of it. Some long pause from what’s going on as the snow falls and settles and you ain’t hearing nothing, everything’s gone still and it’s waiting. 

And it ain’t like I’m paranoid, afraid of my shadow or something. Been hiking, know how to keep myself safe in the city and the country. I’m good with any sort of weather except snow. Snow’s disquieting. It’s some white, bitterly cold blanket that hides everything except you.

Maybe that’s the point. Don’t like being seen so much. Nah. Not seen. Don’t like being focused on. That’s what I feel, out there, in the snow. Might be nobody around but it sure don’t feel like it. 

Heard it called beautiful. Kinda. Maybe. Makes the whole mess of a yard seem clean, at least, covers up some of the browns and greys. I guess like that, yeah, it’s pretty enough. It can seem like a start if it weren’t so busy lurking like an end. Spring’s the new beginning, though. Makes winter the end, by default, I figure. Can’t have one without the other. Unless you did some un-Narnia thing and it was always early Spring. I’d go for that. Be some sort of Green Witch instead of the White one. Never winter, never snowing. Still no Christmas, that’d suck. I’ll skip on being a season witch. Wouldn’t really wanna be one anyway; never liked the idea of being burned.

Snow burns too. Forgot that bit. After it’s done its drilling in with the cold, then it starts to burn you. It ain’t fine with being bitterly chill, gotta singe too. You can’t trust it. And that pretty? Never know what’s underneath it. Could be a hole and then you’re twisting your ankle a mile from home. What then? Ain’t any shouting for help - snow swallows sound too. 

I feel like there’s gotta be a bunch of horror movies about snow, but I bet nobody’s left it just as snow being the threat. Always gotta be more. Aliens, monsters, ghosts, axemen. Can’t leave it as snow itself. Guessing people wanna have too much scare rather than the real one that could land on your roof. Does land on mine. 

Gonna be a few months before the snowmelt, now, probably. Newscasters talking about it sticking around. Sometimes I ain’t sure about living up here. Could’ve bought just as much land further south, never had to deal with snow. Problem with that is I don’t like melting either. Burning my hands on my steering wheel ain’t my idea of a good time. Maybe there’s a place that’s always fall- or spring-like. Maybe I should’ve done more research. Too late now. The snow seems to say the same thing. Too late to choose different, this is what I’m stuck with.

I’m gonna have to shovel it. 

Ugh.

That’s a tomorrow-me problem, because I don’t have to go anywhere until tomorrow. Today-me gets to stare out the window and feel like I’m being stared back at even with nobody in sight. Don’t like that. Really don’t like that. Could close the windows, but then that’d be like I’m admitting I’m scared and it’s sorta pretty. Especially when it gets dark so early; snow’s ‘bout the only thing that makes Daylight Savings Time okay in any way. 

Heat’s kicking on. Started running it a couple weeks back so it don’t got that warm smell anymore. Weird thing is, that’s one of my favorite smells. First time the heater runs every year the dust burns off and you know you’re gonna be comfy and toasty before long. My house stays at 72 year-round. It’s my house and I ain’t gonna let the cold sneak in or the heat invade even if I gotta go out and deal with them sometime.

Sometime might be today after all. Just remembered I gotta get them bins out. I’d think about skipping since I don’t fill ‘em in a week, but I skipped last week because I didn’t wanna haul them down the drive. Today-me ain’t too fond of past-me right now. But past-me didn’t know. Past-me never knows.

With all the reluctance in the world I start digging for my warm stuff. Boots, hat, scarf, vest, gloves, jacket. Maybe it’s overkill just to get the bins out but I ain’t gonna give the snow a chance at me. It can get someone else.

Stepping out onto my icy porch makes me pause. It… ain’t too bad. Cold, sure. But it ain’t watchful. It’s almost peaceful. Probably means it’s a trap, because snow’s tricky like that. It’ll turn. Right in this moment, though, it’s okay. Don’t mind it so much. 

Then I slip on the porch and slide my butt down my three stairs and it’s war all over again.