A White January

Every year, five cities in Upstate NY compete for the most snowfall. I have heard that Syracuse usually wins, but this year, we're destroying the other cities. Albany doesn't even stand a chance. As of January 27th, we have had 113 inches of snow. Considering that the normal average to date (all of these figures are coming from http://goldensnowball.blogspot.com/), which is 64.3 inches of snow, it looks like Syracuse just may beat the all time season snowfall record of 192.1 inches. I have to admit, it would be awesome if the city broke its record my first winter here.

I am taking a nature and environmental writing class, so I get to enjoy some bonding time with the white outdoors. Last week, I dressed warmly and headed to Clark Reservation. You can view a little bit about the state park here: http://www.iloveny.com/What-To-Do/See-And-Do/Clark-Reservation-State-Park/1680.aspx

My senses felt frozen out there. Every breath seemed to frost my nostrils. I tried to stick to the trail, since the terrain includes large boulders with deep cracks zigzagging through their stone. I didn't want to end up falling in the snow with my journal and camera. After surviving pretty well on the white, frosted trails, I decided to head back. Greg, Lily, and Keiffer had found me (they had been in the car keeping warm), and already, the dogs, dressed in their warmest coats, shivered. I saw a patch of pine trees I wanted to take a picture of, and I stepped off the trail that hugs the cliff edge. The ground disappeared beneath me. I slipped in a crack. My entire leg dangled in empty space. I laughed for a long time. Snow pushed its way into my gloves and pants, so my fingers and legs started burning from the cold quickly. By the time Greg pulled me out of the earth, my fingers felt raw.

As I hustled to the warmth of the car, I looked back on the snowy park. Our footsteps were the only thing that marred the winter world, and I was glad that the night was going to bring another layer of snow. Again, nature will cover up the trace of human interference. Again, she will frost herself in white.