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Personal Narrative: Snow Blowing Snow

334 Words2 Pages
The wind was blustering, and the snow was blowing as a ground blizzard swept across the prarie. One could call me crazy for attempting this task, but I would call myself Minnesotan. The cold was nipping at my skin as I stepped out from the warm wood floor into the slightly cooler snow. I was barefoot, and I was only wearing a pair of shorts, and a t-shirt. The temperature on the thermometer outside read thirty below zero, but I did not care because I was born to be wild. Step by step and foot by foot I trudged my way forward through the four feet high drifts on my way to my goal seventy-five feet away, the mailbox. Soon the blowing snow began pelting my uncovered skin causing a slight sting. I only had to plod through ten more feet of snow
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I was following my father, trying to keep up. With each step my foot sank into the snow up to my knee. The snow wasn’t really that deep, but it was for an eight-year-old boy. We had gone out to collect zinc buckets, filled with clear, odorless and tasteless liquid, which we had set up a few days before. The liquid was sap from maple trees that would eventually be boiled down to become syrup.

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In novels, authors use their language and setting to help the reader visualize how the character is and what the things going around him. In David Guterson’s novel “Snow Falling on Cedar,” The author shows Kabuo Miyamoto (the person who was accused of murder) how felt and looked when he was being accused of murder. The author describes Miyamoto as a fearless, quiet, introspective man. who is determined to prove his innocence, comparing the setting of the courtroom to the outside showing the differences between both. To begin with, the man who is being accused of murder (Kabuo Miyamoto) has many characteristics being described as he is sitting down waiting to get trialed.

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The rain fell down in frigid sheets. Ira Whelan stood alone on the gelid deck that was once the Petersburg train station. Now all that remained of the once bustling establishment was the foundation of a prodigious building, and the sooty frozen planks that lay under him. It was winter in West Virginia, and it was the first one after the war’s end. If Ira would’ve had shoes, perhaps the cold weather wouldn’t have bothered him so considerably.

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Doyle promulgates a description allowing for deeper analysis of snow; “Snow starts white and then gets grayer and browner and sometimes black as if it’s rotted, which in a real sense it does,” creates an image in our head that begins to form a life-like cycle of snow, you may compare it to metamorphosis, a physical transformation occurring in nature. The audience can then conceptualize snow and its traits, seeing they have never experienced it firsthand. His description deepens the image his audience has formed of snow throughout his article. Initially, Doyle aims to have his audience picture the physical transformation of snow, even when not in its

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After reflecting on these experiences, Medina realizes that, sometimes, expectations are deceiving. When Medina first arrives in New York, he could not contain his excitement because he has never seen snow. Looking through the window, he describes the snow as “white” and “furry”(72). Medina uses the snow color as an indicator of his tone towards each of his new encounters while in the United States. “I rushed down the steps of the plane and sink my bare hands into the snow, press it into a ball, and throw it at my sister”(72).

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As the white glitter swirls outside of the water residue stained windows, I shiver at the thought of being outside in this harsh winter. I live in South Dakota, where you can never escape the skin cracking dryness of the biting cold. Our winters are never kind, and I couldn’t imagine living in any harsher conditions. I recently read a book, however, about a man that did. This man suffered through more than just bitter cold.

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One moment the sky was growing a little grey, and the next thing you know you were surrounded by snow and stunning winds. The main reason this blizzard was unmistakingly deadly was because of its powerful winds, which would blow snow and ice into people’s faces, and the chilling temperatures of 40 below. People caught outside would have their nostrils and eyelids sealed shut by ice, their skin would tear open if they rubbed the ice off too much, and eventually their limbs would become frozen and lifeless. To sum it up, the people caught outside were at the mercy of the storm’s relentless force. David Laskin’s

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The ice cold snow melts onto my face, I laugh at myself and hope to god the people around me didn’t see that. No one was paying attention to me they all had this type of confidence and excitement to learn and grow. I stood back up and headed down the hill with all force, not knowing how to turn I abruptly put my snowboard on healedge and slammed to a stop. Little did I know I was already halfway down the hill.

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“The absence of sun from the sky, the tremendous cold, and the strangeness and weirdness of it all”- The Yukon is the perfect setting for this story. It is one of the few wild places left; reminding us of how small and inconsequential we truly are. A place that reminds us that you do not get a second chance and one misstep can mean your life. That you must be quick and alert, not only in the things of life but also the significances of them. In the best of times the Yukon is unforgiving, it is cruelest in winter.

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When one thinks of nature, the first thoughts that may come to mind are bright flowers, green landscapes, and endless beauty. However, in the short story “Snow”, written by Frederick Philip Grove, readers learn that nature will stand down to no man and can take lives in the blink of an eye. In short, this tale is about a man, Redcliff, who goes missing in the middle of a blizzard and is eventually found dead, leaving behind, a widow and family depending on him. He is found by a group of three men: Abe, Bill, and Mike who recovers his body and in the end, breaks the tragic news to the family.

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The day was just after my brother’s birthday and we had just finished celebrating his birthday. My brother was more surprised, however, by the amount of snow that covered the yards outside. We both awoke to a sight much more impressive than that of December, a white landscape obscuring everything laying on the ground, including the cars. My brother and I changed faster than firemen getting ready for a rescue, as we ran outside to see the fascinating snow that surrounded our neighborhood.

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