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Editor’s Corner: Let it snow
Andrea Gutierrez new

Whoever invented the phrase “when hell freezes over” must have really hated southeast Georgia. At the time of me writing (typing) this column, it is currently 33 degrees Fahrenheit, or 1 degree Celsius outside. Maybe the Europeans are right on the whole Celsius thing, because I feel like “1 degree” does a better job of hammering home the perils of not using skin lotion in January than the imperial system ever could.

But the good news is, school is out! My mom, as a school employee, spent her first day off celebrating her birthday, which was on the 21st. It was lovely to spend the morning with her, eating homemade pancakes and watching daytime television. With family, it’s the little things that mean the most. (I do wish we had snow days later in the year; we can all call it.…”summer break!” I’m such a genius, this is why I get paid the big bucks.)

Random thought: I remember approximately eleven years ago, my junior high Algebra teacher, a transplant from New Jersey, got mad that our school closed for sleet and ice. If any New Jersey-ites now living in Bryan County are reading this, absolutely nobody wants to hear from you that “the cold here isn’t that bad, you guys are wimps”, yadda yadda. Don’t bite the Southern hands that feed you sweet tea, better beaches, and self-service gas stations. Instead, keep your thoughts to yourself and go kindly pick up some rock salt for your subdivision neighbors.

Anyways, here are some (more) poems related to the winter, courtesy of poetryfoundation.org. Stay warm!

Dust of Snow Robert Frost The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart A change of mood And saved some part Of a day I had rued.

Winter Love Linda Gregg I would like to decorate this silence, but my house grows only cleaner and more plain. The glass chimes I hung over the register ring a little when the heat goes on.

I waited too long to drink my tea.

It was not hot. It was only warm.

Winter Song Katherine Mansfield Rain and wind, and wind and rain.

Will the Summer come again?

Rain on houses, on the street, Wetting all the people’s feet, Though they run with might and main. Rain and wind, and wind and rain.

Snow and sleet, and sleet and snow.

Will the Winter never go?

What do beggar children do With no fire to cuddle to, P’raps with nowhere warm to go?

Snow and sleet, and sleet and snow.

Hail and ice, and ice and hail, Water frozen in the pail.

See the robins, brown and red, They are waiting to be fed.

Poor dears, battling in the gale!

Hail and ice, and ice and hail.

Winter under cultivation Emily Dickinson Winter under cultivation Is as arable as Spring.

First Winter Rain Matsuo Basho First winter raineven the monkey seems to want a raincoat.

Andrea Gutierrez is the editor of the Bryan County News.

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