A Winter Without Snow

     In New York, it has been a winter without snow.

     Like a tea bag without a string.

     Or a flower without petals.

     Pancakes without syrup.

     Or a joke without a punch line.

     As much as I complain about trudging through the thick white powder, I miss waking up to the surprise of a winter wonderland. I miss, “It’s Snowing” being the lead story on the news, and the entry-level reporters having to extrapolate on the street.

     I miss the precautionary run to the grocery store, the checking of the Weather Channel, and the company-wide email urging “caution” and to “stay home if you need to.”

     It seems much to ask, given the drudgery I know it causes so many. I am sure air traffic control, building supers, and traffic cops have found little issue with the dry winter.

     And in truth, I am lying. This morning I woke up to a dusting, a thin layer just thick enough to cover building roofs.

     Which only made me think of how little snow I’ve seen this winter. And made me want more, more, more.