Sunday, February 22, 2015

A California Girl in Slovenia Snow



Having spent most of my thirty some odd years in California, where it can be eighty degrees (27C) on Christmas day, I had never really seen snow until my February business trip to Ljubljana, Slovenia.

Unlike my colleagues, jaded after seeing and dealing with the logistics of snow falls like this multiple times a year for their entire lives, I was delighted and somewhat stupefied. 

Snow casts such a glorious and miraculous brush on the world. Words simply do not do it justice, hence the plethora of snowy included pictures, not a single one retouched. The extreme visual contrast of snow's shear whiteness against everything else is kind of mind blowing. It seems both the essence of nature and extremely unnatural at the same time. Add to the visual experience, the breathtaking silence it leaves in it wake, and I am entirely torn between feeling this is the world as it is supposed to be or perhaps there was a nuclear holocaust. 

My colleagues marveled at my wonder, more than the snow. "You are like an articulate four year old."

Snow, however, and its affects are extremely alien to me.

Thus, after several snowy days, a list came about.
----------------

Stupid California girl comments overheard in the Slovenian Office:


1. It’s so white! (Said in awe, repeatedly, ad nauseam)
2. Why is it lumpy?
3. There is so much of it.
4. It is so slippery.
5. Why do you have to take it off the car, doesn't it fall off itself?
6. It’s so crunchy!
7. Doesn't it make you dizzy looking at it?
8. Now I understand why there are grates at front doors! (picture below)
9. What are snow tires?
10. I had no idea snow plows were soooo noisy.
11. I keep getting my boots stuck together! (My boots, newly purchases as I was completely unprepared, have lace hooks, which I seemed to magically get hooked to things, including each other.)
12. "I don't understand. Snow-on-the-beach?"
13. It is so clumpy. (After a few days when it started clumping on the trees rather than being evenly distributed.)






--------------------

California Girl Snow Incident 6th February
 



Ljubljana Castle
I walk up to the castle almost every morning, just to prepare for the day. I take various trails. On February 6th, this California girl thinks “I’ll take the road less traveled,” while looking at a trail no one has taken since it snowed. “It’s is a nice trail, all fresh, untouched snow.”  

So I go walking up this trail, crunch, crunch, crunch.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Crunch, WOOSH!

California girl up to her hips in snow, says, "oh."

---------------------

On Snowmen

I do hope my Slovenian friends will forgive me, but  the Slovenians are not what I would call a warm people. This is my interpretation, rooted entirely in American cultural bias. The Slovenians do not often smile and their facial expression is affected by their language which actually requires their mouth be tight (compared to my California accent which is so open mouthed). You never see adults loud and ruckus, the way you see Americans at a bar on a Saturday night. And while their children do show more general enthusiasm than Slovenia adults, it is still more restrained than American children. 

All this to preface how utterly disjointed the widespread prevalence of creative, fun, happy snowmen seemed. It was charming. 

Ljubljana snow men, and these are just the ones I thought to talk picture of. They were seemingly everywhere. The mini guy on the right was hand-sized and on the railing outside a bar along the river.

Note the grate in front of the door.
These are everywhere in Slovenia.
I assume to get the snow off your boots.
I doubt there has been a carriage
in this area in decades, but just in case,
a sign indicating bikes yes, carriages no.





This fairly inconspicuous picture was taken for
the shadow of the tree on the house.

This building facade has nothing behind it,
but the glorious winter wonderland seen through the window frame.

Evening along the river front, with the castle above.
Evening along the river.

Stupid: Through years of exposure and logistical annoyances, that the mysticism of snow can be forgotten.
Cool: The amazing mysticism of snow, through the eyes of someone who has never seen it before. 


This post is dedicated to Luka Budin who nudged me toward blog writing again.

No comments: