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Living In A Panorama
May. 3rd, 2010 03:13 amOne of the cool things about living on a mountain is that I can see the weather. Not just as in, “It’s raining” or “There seems to be some wind today,” but also in the sense of, “Hey, look at that snowstorm going on about 25 miles away!”*
On the downside, this is because it’s been SNOWING for the last two days. SNOWING. Big soggy wet snowflakes that band together into a huge half-frozen slushmonster on the front lawn. Salt Lake’s climate dares you to start outdoor fucking today.
It seems to be clearing up now, though, which led to another really creepy Life In A Panorama moment: I drove home across the valley, where it was spring on the west side and the menacing clouds were still snowing on the mountains in the east. If Dorothy had driven home from Oz, it would have looked like this, as the bright insistent colors of OMGSPRING and sunshine faded gradually into that greyscale of snow and clouds. The strange thing was you could see from one into the other—I got home and looked out one window and there was blue sky and happy little clouds, and out the other was this looming snowcapped mountain.
Which is pretty cool, overall, but you know, at this point I’d like to trade it in for some warm weather. Dammit, I am SICK and TIRED of this MOTHERFUCKING SNOW in this MOTHERFUCKING SPRING. Let's get to the deadly heat waves already!
*In case you haven’t seen it, scattered showers or snowstorms from 25 miles away look unnervingly like something Bob “Happy Trees” Ross would paint—you get these solid-looking clouds, and then at the site of the rain or snow it looks like someone painted the cloud and then, while it was still wet, made a couple of sweeping strokes downward with the brush. I find it disquieting that the heavily sedated artist who apparently lived in a tiny spacetime bubble that contained nothing but him, his easel, and an endless supply of blue shirts painted realism.
On the downside, this is because it’s been SNOWING for the last two days. SNOWING. Big soggy wet snowflakes that band together into a huge half-frozen slushmonster on the front lawn. Salt Lake’s climate dares you to start outdoor fucking today.
It seems to be clearing up now, though, which led to another really creepy Life In A Panorama moment: I drove home across the valley, where it was spring on the west side and the menacing clouds were still snowing on the mountains in the east. If Dorothy had driven home from Oz, it would have looked like this, as the bright insistent colors of OMGSPRING and sunshine faded gradually into that greyscale of snow and clouds. The strange thing was you could see from one into the other—I got home and looked out one window and there was blue sky and happy little clouds, and out the other was this looming snowcapped mountain.
Which is pretty cool, overall, but you know, at this point I’d like to trade it in for some warm weather. Dammit, I am SICK and TIRED of this MOTHERFUCKING SNOW in this MOTHERFUCKING SPRING. Let's get to the deadly heat waves already!
*In case you haven’t seen it, scattered showers or snowstorms from 25 miles away look unnervingly like something Bob “Happy Trees” Ross would paint—you get these solid-looking clouds, and then at the site of the rain or snow it looks like someone painted the cloud and then, while it was still wet, made a couple of sweeping strokes downward with the brush. I find it disquieting that the heavily sedated artist who apparently lived in a tiny spacetime bubble that contained nothing but him, his easel, and an endless supply of blue shirts painted realism.
