The precipitation Gods dumped blankets of snow on my neighborhood recently. Well more than a foot, which required a lot of shoveling to maneuver.
I encountered my neighbor Gary while shoveling one day, and we both commented on the sight. “Oh, I love it!” he exclaimed with a bright smile. “I do too, I responded.”
Like all good things, snow is worth the effort. I didn’t always think that way. When I first moved to Utah a decade ago, I despised the snow. Fretted over it. Loathed it, even though my English ancestors adopted it as their surname.
A few years later, my wife—who originally shared my hatred of heavy snow—changed my mind. “Utah is home. We might as well embrace the snow.” She wholeheartedly did from that point on, and I followed her into the light. Now we look forward to sledding, skiing, the extra insulation the snow provides to make the world quieter.
Instead of worrying about road conditions, we just wait for the plows to come or drive really, really slow to ensure safe passage. We even do donuts on occasion in empty parking lots for g-force giggles.
The same goes for my backyard maple. We don’t do donuts on it, but it’s equal to the effort of snow. It demands a lot of leaf removal. But that’s a small price to pay for the wonderful, energy-saving, and life giving shade it affords during the hot desert summer.
Heavy snow and maple trees, it’s all the same to me.