We got the blow, where’s the snow?

OK, I have had more than enough of the blowing, bitter cold winds that sometimes last for days on end. I don’t know about you, but I want snow. Not a blizzard, just four or five inches of the fluffy, white stuff; nothing major.

Of course, just writing about it just may mean we get dumped on with a few feet of snow when this gets published. It is tempting fate. We do need it, badly. My car would love it. It doesn’t like starting when the temperature is below zero — even with the block heater and a freshly serviced battery.

To me, snow also means it will warm up a bit and give us all a clean, white carpet to insulate the frozen ground from the ravages of a deep freeze. Maybe, just maybe, those darned winds will die down to nothing for a spell, too. It will give our new anemometer a well-earned rest. We like to call it the “wind-o-meter.” The poor thing has been working overtime.

Right now my yard looks like something from the set of “Hogan’s Heroes.” Little patches of snow scattered about the brown dirt and dead grass gives the illusion of winter. Not a pretty sight.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not asking for the kind of snow we had last year. That was a lot of shoveling cutting paths between drifts, plowing out my driveway by hand, hacking to bits the hardened packed snow the plow piles up in front of my driveway with a flat edged shovel (then 20 minutes later when the plow truck comes by I have to do it all over again). No, I’m not looking for a repeat of last winter.

But I still would like at least some snow. In Alaska, we expect snowy winters. It is beautiful this time of year. Classic, too. It was one of the things that drew me to this land of wonder years ago — that and the moose in the backyard. Come on, where else can you go to get that? OK, maybe a couple of places, but it isn’t Alaska now is it? And Alaska is the land we all love.

Granted, the first good snowstorms usually produce some of the best in ditch diving stupidity. Mostly it’s SUVs with owners with brains the size of peas thinking that four-wheel drive also means four-wheel stop. They get educated the hard way, upside down in a ditch. About the time their cellphones bounce off their forehead onto what is now the floor and break in two, they figure out they were wrong.

A fresh snow really brings home just how beautiful this place is, especially the day after a snowfall. The sky clears up and a cold sun rises from behind the mountains that ring the Valley. They gleam and glisten like polished bone with a new blanket of thick snow. Spruce branches sport a thick layer of snow, flocked like sugar flakes. The roads, trails and the rest of the Valley appear to hibernate under covers of white. At times, wood smoke streamers cut across the Valley floor obscuring the scene, sometimes enhancing it with grey wisps dividing the mountains from the Valley.

Sunlight can make it blindingly bright as it reflects the snow straight into unprepared eyes with a crystalline dazzle. Sunglasses of all shapes are broken out as the activities of winter begin. From snowmachines to snowshoes, they all need snow for them to be fully enjoyed.

I’m pretty sure I am not alone wishing for the white stuff to come down out of the mountains and into the Valley proper. I want to get dressed up in my best GI-issue winter gear and go out in the middle of a snowfall to get my winter zen on during that hush as it falls to earth.

Being from New England, I have a love of snow. Alaska has provided more than enough to last someone like myself for a lifetime. But this year I miss it. I’m tired of all the blowing and I’m ready for the snowing. With my luck, I will get my wish — and several extra feet of snow to boot.

Wasilla resident Daniel D. Grota retired from the U.S. Army after more than 21 years of service.