Still Life with Robin: Good Snow, Bad Snow

by Peggy Robin

The snow that fell on the Washington area Wednesday afternoon and evening was a Bad Snow -- I hope everyone would agree. I’ve been thinking about what made it so awful. And the reverse: what makes a snowfall a Good Snow.

First, let me confess at the outset that I’m not a big fan of any kind of snow. I grew up in Atlanta, where, if we ever had a half-inch dusting, the whole city shut down in a panic. No one expected the streets to be plowed – and they weren’t. I’m not sure the city even owned any snow-clearing equipment; the infrequency of use must have rendered it a cost-ineffective acquisition.

My brother and I, on the other hand, owned sleds, and being transplants to the South from New York, were the only kids in our neighborhood who did. That made us very popular in the odd year when there was enough snow to attempt a downhill run.

So here is the first and perhaps most obvious criterion for what makes a Good Snow: It should be right for sledding.  That means the snow must fall in sufficient quantity and be of the right quality, as well: powdery and slippery, as opposed to the heavy stuff that your sled would simply sink down into and not budge.

Second, a Good Snow falls only at the most convenient time. Best is just after the evening rush hour is done and everyone is safe and snug at home. It’s fine for pretty, fluffy little flakes to start descending from the sky just at the tail end of the rush hour, as long as it doesn't make the roads too slick or snarl up the traffic. Then it can snow throughout the evening and on through the night, as long as the accumulation before 11pm is sufficient to enable school administrators to make a solid call to cancel the next day of school. That avoids the dreaded 5am robo-call telling you school is definitely off.

Third, the snow needs to be just that: Snow. In flakes. No “wintry mix.” No sleet, no icy rain, no hail, and definitely no “thunder-snow.”

Fourth, let’s have the snowfall accompanied by enough of a breeze to blow the snow off the power lines and prevent a heavy buildup on tree branches. We all have seen enough broken branches and downed power lines lately to realize that for a snowfall to be enjoyable, you have to be able to view it from inside a toasty warm, well-lit house. It’s no fun at all to be shivering inside in the dark, wondering how long it will take Pepco to bring you back on the grid. (Actually, this criterion should be moved up to the number one spot.)

Fifth, the temperatures need to stay consistently below freezing, so that the top layer of the snowfall doesn’t melt, only to refreeze after sundown into a hard-to-shovel, solid sheet of ice.

Sixth (and last), a Good Snow is one that is over and done with after sufficient hours’ snowfall producing a reasonable accumulation of say, three inches to a foot. No second-whammy on top of the first. Give the city enough time to get the roads cleared, and the residents enough time to do their walksways, without having to go back out and start over.

I realize it’s rare to have a snow meet all six of these conditions. But Wednesday’s snow was a fail on five-and-a-half. (I’m giving a half-point credit for enough accumulation to have allowed for school cancellations the night before.) The worst two points of this last snowfall were 1. The timing, in the middle of the evening rush hour, so that a half-hour commute turned into an eight hour nightmare for thousands upon thousands; and 2. This snow was so dense and heavy that it brought down trees and power lines all over the region, leaving nearly 500,000 without electricity. Even now, two days later, there are some still waiting for the power to be restored.

You may have heard the old story that the Eskimos have over a hundred words for snow. That’s long been dismissed as a linguistic myth, but I propose we adopt a particular term for this most recent and disagreeable type of snow: Wet Blanket. As in, no fun for anyone. Here’s hoping the next one will be the polar opposite. I don’t have a term in mind for that one, but if we are lucky enough to get that type of snow, I’m sure I’ll think of something.