Winter Storm Elektra arrived a few hours ahead of schedule, which meant that we woke up to a snow-covered block. I'm not actually sure if "Elektra" is the actual name of this storm -- or if it's even a storm (and I think the idea of naming snowstorms is "a bit much," unless they're always named after our cats, which is kind of fun?) -- but I do enjoy the initial blanket of snow, the way it seems to quiet down the streets and briefly transport the city into another era from the past.
Just a month ago, the leaves were all on the trees here, but this year -- unlike a few years ago, when it snowed on Halloween -- everyone was prepared.
Unlike most deciduous trees, the pin oaks in our front yard hang on to their leaves for most of the winter. I used to worry about them, thinking that all healthy trees drop their leaves, until I learned that pin oaks take a different path.
I went to the backyard, where I was hopeful that the early snow and extreme cold would kill off the scale that unfortunately infested our climbing hydrangea last season. I'm not sure that the scale is actually bothered by the snow, however; we will learn more in the spring. As with so many serious problems in life, this one can only be dealt with in increments and with great patience. It's sort of like the problem of depicting non-heterosexuals on television, I thought, as I remembered a recent episode of "Nashville" I had seen. I enjoy the show but was irritated by the producers' ongoing decision not to show anything "graphic" between two men who are secretly having an affair (opting instead for the aftermath of a sexual encounter, with each man lying separately and brooding on a different side of the bed); obviously -- given that they regularly depict very "steamy" scenes between the non-homosexuals on the show -- this kind of treatment creates a hierarchy of attraction that, like scale on climbing hydrangea, impedes our society from flowering. (Have I pushed this metaphor enough? I think so.) On the other hand, perhaps the show's producers should be lauded for acknowledging the existence of gays, which is still relatively rare on network television (I understand there are exceptions that prove the rule, and that "progress has been made" in comparison to even ten years ago). Maybe once that new HBO show ("Looking") airs in January (and assuming it's a "hit," and so far the previews look promising?), there will be a rush of lemming-minded producers eager to replicate the success, and depictions of gay sex will become as eye-rollingly mundane as (most) depictions of straight sex. Sort of like how every show now seems to feature scenes of espionage and torture, where the ominous cart, covered with an array of shiny, sadistic instruments, is wheeled in as the captive looks on trembling. It seems strange to me that depictions of torture have somehow become less controversial than depictions of gay sex, but such is the world we live in.
Meanwhile, a snow panther prowled through the garden, looking for food. The evergreen ferns, immune to the snow and cold, and millions of years old, slept peacefully as they dreamed about the extinction of dinosaurs.