“It’s not the snowfall, it’s the snowdrifts.” I just realized that’s kind of a northcountry version of “it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity.”
I give yesterday’s storm about a 6 out of 10 for Duluth snowstorms in terms of intensity and general nastiness. However, I think this might be the biggest drift I’ve encountered in the 12 years I’ve been at this house.
I had to channel a little Hillary and Norgay on the way up to the garage. I’m saving Shackleton for when I actually try to move this stuff. If I decided to move it, that is.
And as long as we’re talking arctic explorers, maybe it’s time for a little musical interlude with Stan Rogers and his peerless ballad to the lost Franklin expedition, so choked with emotion and inspiration that it’ll make you want to cry, or climb a mountain, or maybe tackle some snowdrifts.
Postscript: That fabled Northwest Passage is now open for shipping, experts blame/credit global warming for opening it up. If Stan Rogers had lived another 30 years to see that once-upon-a-time unimaginable development I wonder what he’d add a verse and I wonder what it would say.
