A little while ago I received a call from Molly, who writes remotely for The St. Paul Pioneer Press. She wanted to know my thoughts about the weather, especially since I live in Fargo, ND, “Cold Weather Capital of the Upper Midwest.” (That’s my own title…I realize there are places that are colder on average, but we seem to be a symbol for harsh weather and people who enjoy torturing themselves through living here.) I’ll look forward to reading her story when it comes out.
In the meantime, yesterday a friend from Indiana told me about a certain song I should know about. I found a link to it and will post it here. It’s worth a listen. Am I the only Fargoan who has never heard this song until now? Where have I been? In a snow cave?
Well, yes, I have.
It’s really interesting what goes on in Fargo in the wee hours of winter. Monday night I was out late doing my night-out writing “date with myself,” and, as I often do, I stopped by the grocery store on the way home. It was 1 a.m., and the snowplows were in the parking lot, buzzing around like little kids in bumper cars. Honestly, they looked like they were having a total blast. The temperature was double negatives, and yet they were in their T-shirts in the snowplow cabs like it was playtime on the beach. It seemed so surreal. They had the parking lot as smooth as an ice-skating rink.
But on the way home from that grocery run, as I weaved through the narrow streets (due to the four-foot-high snow walls on either side), I couldn’t help but think: Was this climate, this environment, really meant to be inhabited by people?
I’ve often looked at those who flee from this part of the country for warmer, “easier” climates as a little soft. But lately, I’ve honestly been wondering, why the self-torture?
I think the answer came during my interview with Molly. It’s a thought I’ve often had when contemplating winter. Winters might be tough here, but there is no springtime like those we have in this region. Seriously. When we lived out in Washington state, spring was nice. Here, it’s a total party, a SPRING FEST EXTRAVAGANZA.
Unless, of course, there’s a flood. (sigh)
Well, we take our luck as it comes. I’m hoping for the spring party. It all depends on how quickly (or slowly) the snow walls melt.
So, you tell me. Are we hardy, or just nuts?