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Photographers hunt for ways to romanticize life. Snow becomes a metaphor for virginity, innocence, sweetness - like that. When in fact it's been a traditional enemy of civilization. We are a naked animal, evolved in warm climes. Snow is not our natural habitat. We've adapted and make compromises with snow. We slow down, build cabins... ofttimes wheeled cabins.
Snow makes us cautious: makes us think about things which we'd otherwise do reflexively. Like walking. Or driving. Very few of our automatic actions are carelessly done in the stuff. And when its mixed with ice, we fear it the way vampires do sunlight. Snowstorms are lovely in romantic movies. Or in the countryside where a viewer watches it, drink in hand, through a crackling fire reflected in a large picture window.
City snow isn't like that. City snow snarls, makes things brown, freezes wheels to streets, packs then cracks into dirty ice shards which slash tires, and skin.
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City snowstorms are the reason they invented hot chocolate with marshmallows.