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Writer's picturecherylmurfin

Oh the Rush of the White Stuff in Seattle

Updated: Feb 25, 2021




there we were again

shocked and awed

caught off guard

curiously unprepared

given it happens almost every year

tingling with excitement

not to mention the usual

weatherageddon panic


oh! how the forecasters

jumped over each other

giddy in their hyperbole

their sweeping storm-tracking graphics

arcing across green screen maps

fanning our collective dread

with Worst! Storm! Ever! warnings

and other cold front paroxysms


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toilet paper

flying off market shelves

aka the early weeks

of any good pandemic


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parka-clad news reporters

yelling into microphones

high atop the highest hills in the city

at the peak of the flurry


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jack-knifed vehicles abandoned by fools

determined to gun front-wheel drives up hill

scattered like so many pizza boxes

across on the floor of a fraternity on a Saturday night


12.4 inches

as reported

on www.weather.gov

11 inches

as measured

by a yellow wooden ruler

sticking up from a car roof

just outside my door

wrapped in wool blankets

we looked out upon a city

wrapped in its own blanket

white and soft and magical

and covering the confused camila bushes

and sprouting bulbs and trees

that busted out in bud just yesterday

sure it was safely Spring


through the hush of a snow-stilled morning

the exuberant laughter of sledders

our neighborhood turned into a playground

with full families floating forward

along the flattest roads

their cross country skis shushing

their tongues sticking out

to taste the flakes we were so warned about


tromping in boots and coat

I was struck not by the havoc of a winter storm

but by the cheery connecting it brought

the waves and hellos and helpful hands

those three strangers who jumped in to dig out a car

as a father tried to conceal his panic

and his pregnant wife

waddled down the block


boots piled by the door back home

hot toddies warmed our hands

the heater fired up

thankful to have electricity

flakes picked up their pace outside

turning the window into moving art

my snow-savvy friend chuckled

at the dramatics:


“Storms Bring Punishing Cold, Snow and Ice!”

“The Northwest Braces for Blizzard!”

“Snowiest Day in 52 Years!”

“Slush Brings Threat!”

“Puget Sound Pounded by Snow!”

“Northwest to Get a YEAR’s Worth of Snow!”

“Winter Storm Parade Continues!”

“Snow and ice to plaster Pacific Northwest . . .”


where she lives the white stuff is merely

another part of winter

not a cause for hysteria

pantries are kept stocked with toilet paper

four-wheel is standard

folks grab their shovels

to get on with their lives

and when neighbors bring blowers and tractors

she hands them a Scotch to stay warm


the next day it was all but gone

the snowpocalypse that wasn’t

the blizzard which, it turned out, was simply snow falling

angels disappeared into muddy slush

snow people washed into the storm drains

roads cleared and cars got back to running

my dog returned to hating the rain

and growling at the postman


I have to admit I look forward

to the next "punishing," "plastering," "bracing" event

to the hoopla and exaggeration it will bring

to the idiots sure they alone will make it up the hill

to warmed bourbon in a mug

to the reminder of the importance play and do-nothing pause

and to watching nature pull that blanket up to her chin again

with the invitation that we do the same











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