Return of Prodigal Winter

Mother Nature’s polar express blew into St. Louis bringing with it the return of Old Man Winter’s Prodigal Son.  A nine-inch drop of snow and sleet elicited cries of anguish from  naysayers as they shivered and shoveled the winter mix from their driveways and scraped clear  their car windshields. 

Conversely, the young and the young at heart greeted the strong arm of January of yore with a hip-hip hooray as they hurriedly strapped on their winter apparel of boots, hats, scarfs and layered shirts and sweaters to embrace the Cold.   

              Indeed, consecutive years of record setting warmer temperatures pushed Autumn further down the calendar and deleted the B-rr from December.   That all changed dramatically when those ready to return to work and school after the Holidays stood frozen at home when the snow and sleet proved too heavy and stubborn to remove quickly from our streets.   Yet, that same mix proved a boon for Art Hill sledders of all ages who enjoyed a fast downhill course.   The hard pack snow/sleet combo proved resistant to wear as opposed to the norm when sledders shred the snow cover down to turf in short order.  The long-visiting cold weather extended the downhill fun runs for a full week.

            By mid-week, the clouds gave way to a brisk bluebird winter sky, as the fresh air and sun brightened the mood of ice skaters blading at Steinberg Skating Rink, St. Louis’ winter gem.    The Rink’s crew manned up and cleared the outdoor rink of the mother lode of snow after hours of hard work.  The compressor that worked overtime to provide ice during December’s unseasonably warm weather now sat idle as true winter temperatures froze the ice with a naturally harder and faster surface.    Skaters ‘braved’ the cold and warmed their inner selves through their own exertions, their joy manifest in their happy communal chatter .

            Friday brought more snow. If every snowflake is unique, then too is every snowstorm.  This four-inch drop of lighter flakes graced tree limbs and branches with an angel dusting that transformed Forest Park’s woodland nooks and hollows to a wedding white cathedral where the sound of silence prevailed.  A herd of deer was seen feeding in a hallowed hollow where peace momentarily reigned.

            By the weekend, the invading northern air retreated long enough for the salted streets to thaw as vehicular traffic sullied the virgin white into a grey slush.   Men struggled with pick and shovel to reclaim their driveways, their physical work with the elements engendered a well-earned appetite. 

            After sunset, Winter mounted a nighttime counter offensive reclaiming its domain over daylight’s melt marking its victory with icicles dangling from eaves and hillside crevices that evidenced warmer weather’s retreat.  Last week’s extant snow cover reflected January’s Wolf moon’s full glory, making nighttime bright signifying the return of the winter of our youth.

            Climate change may be man made—or not.  But no one can debate that the climate of the last many years has grown warmer with Autumn milder, frequent droughts, biblical rainstorms, and emaciated winters.  Hence, some of us celebrate the return of seasonal normalcy and greet the arrival of a cold, snowy and wondrous January as the return of Old Man Winter’s Prodigal Son.

            California fires and Florida hurricanes await those who cannot tolerate the returning wonder of our four seasons, especially the muscular weather of January.