Alberta Clipper

Feb 20 2014

The rain was unstoppable.

A mythological downpour,
water enough

for the Biblical flood.

The one about judgement, punishment

justice done.

The one Noah, that nut-case

went on-and-on about,

warning the others,

but struggling with doubt.

A puppet-master God,

His mercy strained

commanding the rain.

Whose hand, according to the literalists
is firmly on the spigot;
so there are no accidents,

no luck, good or bad

in His heavenly plan.

But in the Bible

there is also no snow, no northern winter,

no blizzard equivalent
of the Biblical flood.
Here, where doors swing inward,
or the only way out
would be a window, upstairs.
Where cars are plugged-in, wood split in advance,

larders well-stocked
with staples and cans.

The forecast calls

for heavy blowing snow
and we're still patiently waiting,
tingling
with anticipation
at Nature's wrath.
Because this northern God, this modern deity
has tempered His anger

mellowed with age.
Unlike the Old Testament version,
who drowned the world
for the sins of the few,
roiled the oceans
smote the lewd.

Who afflicts us only with snow.
Perfect
to jump and slide and throw,
for building forts, and digging burrows.
For the brilliant gift
of snow days,
work excused
cancelled schools.

An Alberta Clipper, a Texas Low
colliding
over Lake Superior.

And just for fun
little kids, all bundled-up

in brightly coloured coats,

making angels in the snow.

The forecast was for a big storm: heavy winds lots of snow. But as I sat down to write this, it had been almost 24 hours since the predicted start, and the weatherman kept moving the goal line. So the patient waiting and the tingle of anticipation are true. As are the topped-up woodpile and the hoarding of essentials.

I wanted to find an expression for this that would be as powerful as "Biblical flood", and realized there was nothing: certainly nothing Old Testament. As much as our world-view separates us from a time when, apparently, prophets and miracles were commonplace, so does our landscape: as different from the Middle East as one might imagine. We hardly expect daily miracles; but nothing in the Bible prepares us for Biblical blizzards, either.

"Biblical" is not, of course, simply an instrumental reference to the mythological flood; it also has allusions of judgement and punishment. Noah didn't just have his own doubts; he was also roundly ridiculed by his neighbours. And while a sensible reading of the holy book understands that it is allegorical and in the realm of instructive myth, the literalists take it as the transcribed word of God.

I heard an item on the news about an earlier storm on the East Coast, and the fellow was talking about being temporarily trapped in his house but the snow piled up outside his door. I smiled smugly to myself: prudently, mine opens in!

I like the contrast between more archaic words like "smote" and "affliction" and "sin", and the silliness that follows: things like throwing snowballs and digging caves. And I also like ending on "snow angels: calling back to the Biblical theme, but taking all the sting out of it.

It eventually came, 18 or so hours later. Not quite Biblical ...but there's still time. (Unfortunately, any snow angels will be quickly obliterated by wind!)