Jack Frost, Bless His Heart

Every year we get a bit o' the winter down here and every year those still up north give us a ton of shit about it.

"You call that snow?"

"You call that cold?"

"I can't believe they closed the schools for that!"

"What a bunch of idiots!"

Well, even though I'm a Texan by citizenship, I was born and lived in Wisconsin for my first 34 years. Yes- December 1st I crossed the 20 year mark as a Texan, but I still remember. Oh, hell yes- I still remember.

I remember cold that hurts the minute you open the door- freezes your nose hairs together and makes your eyeballs throb.

I remember snotcicles.

I remember snow so high it's a solid wall of white when you open your door to leave the house and you just calmly close the door and go out the other side of the house.

I remember hauling hay on a sled and never going out to the barn without a sledgehammer to break gates loose and ice off the water tanks...even though there are tank heaters...and they're working just fine.

I remember bringing the hose inside after every use.

I remember having a spare set of car keys and leaving the car running while I was at work, just to be sure it wouldn't be dead from the cold when I was ready to drive home.

I remember driving home at midnight and staying on the road by driving right in the middle of the telephone poles on either side.

I remember being snow blind in a blizzard.

Here's what those still up north don't understand.

Down here there are no snow plows- the snowy streets become packed snow rinks and the icy streets stay icy...until it melts on its own.

Down here the houses, animals, people are not built to withstand intense prolonged cold. Everything is built to withstand intense prolonged heat. Remember when we laugh at ya'll when your thermometer inches towards the century mark in the summer and ya'll are wilting and melting? Pussies.

Down here the road surfaces are actually different than up yonder. The first winter I was here, the first icy day I got in my big ol' Caddy (front wheel drive and totally kickass up north in the winter) and headed for work. The first stop light I gently applied the brakes well in advance of the intersection and...slid straight on through it. Damnedest thing ever.

Here's what I love about winter cold snaps that may or may not include ice, snow and other trappings of actual winter-

It lasts a few days and then goes away.

I can live with that.

And call us idiots all day long- Ya'll are the ones still living where this shit sticks around for months on end.

Idiots.

The Pitter Pat of Little Drops

It rained last night.

Such a simple sentence. Four words, none of them remarkable.

But this is Texas circa Summer 2011. I stopped counting when we hit our 75th day of over 100 degrees and we haven't had more than .05 inch of rain since May.

We were already in our 4th year of drought and the extremely unheard-of heat plumb finished us off.

Rain has been forecast, promised, held in front of our noses- so many dew-covered carrots more times than I can count on one hand in the last 3 months, and each time the weather updates and the percentage likelihood drops, fades, withers away before our very eyes as though even the weather report is no match for the furnace blast breezes and unrelenting glare of Old Sol.

So I watched the forecast this time as though listening to the tired refrain of an abusive spouse. "THIS time will be different. I've changed. I promise, Baby", knowing full well it's most likely complete bullshit but dutifully nodding all the same.

We were supposed to get rain starting Thursday night and for the following six days. Each day dawned bright and sunny and each night the moon reflected back the sunlight that couldn't leave us alone for even a few hours.

Thursday. Friday. Saturday. Sunday.

Wait.

Last night the moon did not come out- the clouds did.

Breathlessly, hopefully, we looked up the radar and there it was- headed for us.

Rain.

Now even then there was no overt merriment- not long ago a large storm formation thundered down from the north and as we watched split neatly in two just to the north of us, then re-formed just to the south of us, drenching everyone within miles...except us.

So we went about our business, nonchalantly.

The clouds deepened. The temperature dropped. The radar glowed red covering the tiny speck that is us.

*plop*

One drop fell heavy to the earth as though thrown.

We held our breaths.

And the heavens opened, the giant pillow of clouds were torn end to end and water cascaded down, covering us in a slumber party's worth of beautiful feathery drops.

For over an hour it fell steady, fabulous and life-giving.

Today and for the next week or so it's sunny again, but not as hot and the dust has been knocked off of everything.

I breathed deeply of the cool morning air as I checked the creek. It's not running yet, but where the springs ooze up into it there are puddles- bigger puddles where the 3 within sight had been stalwartly refusing to dry up- ice cold on the feet of all who splashed in them- boy and dogs, and worth the trip down the bank for our 16 year old cat who crouches at their edge- a tiger in his mind's eye.

Yesterday all the foliage was dust red and today the colors are once again visible- different shades of green, but far too much yellow and brown where plants, shrubs, trees small and enormous have starved to death silently.

And I understand being grateful for the rain. I understand the relief it brings both physically and mentally.

And I can look to the sky and say "Thank you" sincerely.

But I don't get the whole 'Thanking God' thing.

I didn't get the whole 'praying for rain' thing either.

Apparently neither did God- for months and months.

Because if God brings the rain, that means he also withholds it.

That means all the dead cattle, birds, plants, trees, all the ruined farmers looking at no hay this winter and no pasture either, all the wildfires, all the decimated forests, all the torched homes and their accompanying now-homeless families, all the wounded firefighters, the young mother and her baby who died trapped in their flaming home...also the work of God.

When the whole idea behind religion is to provide order, and comfort, and a greater power who is just and righteous and someone/something to order our own lives and behaviors around...

I'll just go on believing it's merely Weather, thanks anyway.