Syracuse and Living with Big Snow

The New York Times published an article in today' s editions about Syracuse, New York and snow. The story notes that this winter has been particularly severe in Syracuse, with nearly 72 inches having already fallen on the central New York city. However, for an area that averages ten feet of snow annually since 1951, six feet and counting before Christmas is not exactly an unusual phenomenon.

The best quote in the story is provided by a man whom the writer characterized as an avid skier. "I left Minnesota," he said, "because there was hardly any snow. It was just cold."

One is not cheated out of winter in Syracuse. I know, because I lived in the area until I was eleven years old. Most of my immediate and extended family, who also resided there at different points in their lives, can easily swap snow stories. For all intents and purposes, winter has a mythological weight for these family members and for me.

The Times story was spot on characterizing the perspective locals have toward winter. Managing winter is a matter of pride. Walking past six foot-high snow piles is part of everyday life. Though not mentioned in the article, driving in snowstorms is not a big deal. Snow days are rare and begrudgingly taken. Coexisting with winter, enjoying it, and defying it, are all feelings that stay in the blood, remembered, even cherished.

That background served me well over the years. During my collegiate years in Wisconsin, some felt that, because I came from New York, I would be shocked by the Midwestern state's heavy snows, bitter winds, and bleak winter landscapes.

I knew I would feel right at home.

Even now, in New Jersey, where I live, I appreciate the beauty of a heavy snowfall. My wife understands this, and knows I'll willingly go out and shovel snow. Fortunately, my bride enjoys snow and what a Russian rocket scientist I once taught called "the serenity of winter." He would have understood central New York, too.

Snowtime in Paris

I don't associate snow with Paris. My image of the French capital consistently includes tree-shaded gardens and other botanical phenomena that one associates with mild weather. That picture received a jolt earlier this week, when over four inches of snow fell on the City of Light.

This episode illuminates how strongly images affect one's conception of the world. It's difficult to imagine a more artistically rendered city than Paris. Characteristically, these images show a vibrant, extroverted city that manifests itself best in warm weather. Few mitigating images interfere with this dreamy version of everyday Parisian reality. One becomes conditioned to a vision of how an environment ought to be. Then, an event such as a snowstorm compels us to look with fresh eyes at seemingly familiar scenes.

There's a useful value in that fresh look, even if one doesn't particularly like snow.

The image is Effect of Snow at Petit Montrouge, a sketch composed by Edouard Manet in 1870.