January 19, 2025 – 9:45 AM
Diary of a Snowbound Visionary, Volume II: The Cold Strikes Back
Dear readers of frostbitten chronicles,
The week since Snow-pocalypse 2025: January Edition has been one of reflection and stubborn snow. Despite temperatures attempting a feeble rebellion midweek (a balmy 50 degrees on Thursday, practically tropical), stubborn patches of icy defiance clung to shaded corners, taunting anyone who dared dream of dry pavement. A little rain on Saturday tried to help. It failed.
And now, as I sit here with yet another Super Orange Emergen-C (there are no scurvy pirates in this household), I watch in bemused disbelief as snow begins to fall again. The flakes seem more determined this time—larger, heavier, and already forming a respectable coating on the back deck and the yard. The weather gods have grown bolder, issuing an extreme cold warning that will linger into tomorrow. Of course, this bout of “snow” is only expected to last for an hour. We’ll see.
In non-weather news, my 5th Horn duties for last week’s Mahler 5 performances with the Knoxville Symphony Orchestra were nothing short of spectacular. The orchestra skillfully tamed Mahler’s wild, emotional beast. Thursday’s performance suffered from lower attendance than we’d have liked, but Friday night’s nearly full house more than made up for it. The audience remained captivated through every dramatic twist and turn of the nearly hour-and-20-minute symphony. Triumph was ours, and applause was plentiful.
This tale of weather woe is brought to you on my brand-new technological marvel: the Samsung Galaxy Book 4 (15.6″—bigger than I would like, that’s what she said). Its sleek form factor has replaced my aging XPS 15, which was beginning to show its age like an old snowplow sputtering through a half-inch dusting. Initial impressions? Speedy, crisp display, with a keyboard worthy of snowstorm musings. Still, the size feels a bit unwieldy. Time will tell if it becomes my trusty steed or an awkward beast of burden.
But enough about technology. Let us return to the mockery of nature.
The flurries swirl with purpose now. Will they amount to more than a fleeting annoyance? Will I once again marvel at the bravado of winter’s false promises? Or perhaps—just perhaps—this storm will redeem the meteorological follies of its predecessors. Until then, I’ll watch with amusement, laptop warm, Diet Coke within reach, and a readiness to document every dramatic flake that dares to fall.
Stay frosty, friends. The snow saga is far from over.
© 2025, Robert Owen. All rights reserved.
