And still it comes, falling from the sky with no end in sight. Snow, snow as far as the eye can see. Maine is buried in brilliant white snow. What bravery our ancestors must have had! What fierce hearts and steadfast faith they must have had! Today we have weathermen and weather channels and the internet and dozens of other gadgets to tell us about the weather. We can predict with reasonable accuracy what will happen and when it will happen. Then our cities have large machines to come and push the snow into gigantic mountains, or to devour it completely and regurgitate it elsewhere.
What must it have been like to not know when the snow would
stop? To have only human hands and horse
power available? To have no stores
nearby to purchase necessary goods? So
much forethought must have gone into planning for the Dark Days. Storage of goods in close proximity must have
been of paramount importance. And even
more so, to keep the flame kindled in their hearts, the ray of hope alive that
they would somehow make it through to better days, must have been a Herculean
feat.
I don’t know if I would have been brave enough to survive
it. Even now with all that we have, I
look to the horizon in dread and admit defeat.
Enough I say!
When will the snow end? |