It has been bitterly cold in south central Utah, waking up to single digits every morning for the past week or so. Yesterday it was 0 degrees when I arose and all I could think of was 32 DEGREES BELOW FREEZING! At least it won’t snow when it’s that cold, which is fine with me. Another advantage is that we don’t have to deal with the mud previously created by the melting snow; it freezes too.
We have two outside cats that can’t come inside ‘cause that causes terrible fights with the three inside cats. My wife has placed heating pads in their individual little houses, one on the back porch, one on the front porch. Then there are the ferals that depend on food at her feeding station down the driveway, but if they don’t come and get it when she first puts it out, it freezes.
As I write this, it is 7:40 PM mountain time, 14 degrees outside. Our sheets are flannel, a wonderful invention. Having grown up in Miami and lived most of my life in Florida prior to coming out here, I never would have thought I’d be a cold weather person at this stage of my life. Most people retire in the other direction, from cold to warm. But, as perhaps I have said before, I have more elevation change in my backyard now than the entire State of Florida. The snow gives the hills and the rock cliffs a wonderful definition, and Zion National Park nearby is strikingly gorgeous in the winter (see above photo). When I hike in winter I can’t see the trails, of course, but I just walk till I decide to turn around, then follow my boot prints back out.
Even a dumpy little blue collar town like where I live looks good under a blanket of snow, the smoke curling out of the chimneys, a heavy jacket and cap protecting me from the cold as I wander up the hill from the post office. It’s good to hear the crunch of snow underfoot, especially if there is ice around. Always walk where there’s snow to avoid slipping on the ice. In Florida, I didn’t need to know that.