The white on the grass shows the first frost. Last year this time, it had just snowed.
This year, the Old Farmer’s Almanac predicts a milder-than-usual winter for the Northwest, with a weak El Niño. It predicts snow. I hope it’s right. I love snow, particularly walking in the snow at night—the hush, the elf-light, the feeling of being in another world.
Snow can leave me stranded on top of my hill, though. My hill rises 880 feet above the river at its base, and our weather is different than in the valley. We often have snow here when it’s raining below.
Plus, Seattle has more hills per square mile even than San Francisco. That combined with the fact that most natives don’t know how to drive in snow and that the city doesn’t have many snowplows means a snow day can last a half-week.
Stranded, in the snow, with a fireplace—okay, twist my arm.