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Irelands Big Freeze a short story

Updated on March 6, 2010

The Taste Of The Snowflake

After living in Canada last winter, and been in Vancouver during a beautiful snowfall, and with the luck of been in Vancouver when it hadn't snowed like that in 20 years, well, you would want to see the face of this grown up child. Coming from Ireland, the land of saints, scholars, sinners and never ending tap dancing rain, I couldn't believe my luck. I had never seen snow like it, never in my poor old life, not in Ireland, not anywhere.

Like a child in a candy store, I made the most out of it. While Vancouver was falling apart, While the four horsemen of the Apocalypse were reeking havoc on the city, buses breaking down everywhere, shops closed, cars crashing, mass hysteria, people angry and pissed off on buses, I was making snowmen, sliding down hills on plastic, and pissing people off with snowball bashing. Ah the madness of this man possessed, the happiness, the ecstasy of touching snow on my tongue, the taste, the freedom. Like a licked plate after a good dinner, all things must come to an end, and like that, it was gone, and with it, a huge chunk of the child's heart, melted like a lonely ice-cube.

So November 2009 I returned to my homeland, home to the misery of this broke wretched country, jobless, homeless, lost in a vast sea of confusion, and moved whatever things I had to the west of Ireland, Galway, to start from the bottom of the pit, with only a pick-axe and hammer to climb myself back up with, and start a new life, still with a taste of that snowflake memory.

Expecting the usual months of rain, to my surprise, and the countries surprise, in December, we had another ice-age. The big freeze they called it, the country went in to meltdown. Schools closed, shops closed, again mass hysteria. Our salt and sand supplies ran out in a couple of weeks, the moaning and misery of the then already miserable people was frightening, the bitterness of the words, uttered from their thin miserable lips would turn a man to stone Medusa style. Chaos, pure chaos, all from a bit of ice. SNOW!, where was the bloody snow?. Yes the midlands and the south, the north to the east, cold beneath the raging moon, tasted the soft sweet snowflake.

I remember peeking out the window, and seeing the first snowflake, and the beating of the heart, raging like a wild fox. I ran down the steps, probably half naked, my memories were dazed by the sight of the delicious snowflake, and I ran swiftly in to the field with my tongue touching my cheek like a slurping mongrel with outstretched arms, stopped and opened my mouth, and tasted the chilled first bleak Decembers winter snow, and licked away like and anteater at an ant hill, ah! the ecstasy, the joy of a simple crystal piece of frozen rain, the joy, the joy.

But with everything good, like your last piece of candy, soft, sweet and pure, it stopped and headed on east, and standing silently lost in a lonely cold field, I turned and headed back to my new home, And wondered, would people think I’m mad if I lick the ground?

The Snowflake And The Moon

Out through the dark clouds ,

The moon takes a peek,

The silver watchful moon,

With simple essence light

Soaked in its moonlit beam,

Bright eye of the western sky

 

And to the crystal snowflake,

Afloat in a winters dream,

The last falling snowflake,

Alone to the ground you drift,

In the eye of the watchful moon,

You gleam like a sad lone lover

 

Lonely glistening snowflake,

The last to fall this winters night

The last to feel the midnight chill

The last to touch my waiting tongue,

Little crystal snowflake, two lovers

As one, beneath the watchful moon.

 

 

Comments

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    • Sherbet Penny profile imageAUTHOR

      Sherbet Penny 

      7 years ago from Galway, Ireland.

      Thank you Thelma

    • Thelma Alberts profile image

      Thelma Alberts 

      7 years ago from Germany

      Great Hub Sherbet Penny. I love it and the poem,WOW!!! Thanks for sharing.

    • Sherbet Penny profile imageAUTHOR

      Sherbet Penny 

      8 years ago from Galway, Ireland.

      Big time Georgina.

    • Georgina_writes profile image

      Georgina Crawford 

      8 years ago from Dartmoor

      Looks like you and I had similar ideas about the snow this year.

    • Sherbet Penny profile imageAUTHOR

      Sherbet Penny 

      8 years ago from Galway, Ireland.

      Thans hotspur, yes, let out the kid in us.

    • Sherbet Penny profile imageAUTHOR

      Sherbet Penny 

      8 years ago from Galway, Ireland.

      Thank you seasoning, where in ireland do you live.

    • profile image

      seasoning 

      8 years ago

      so happy to meet you, i too reside in Ireland, i feel i am going to love your work, thanks for making yourself known on my hub

    • hotspur profile image

      hotspur 

      8 years ago from England

      Yes the chaos. Think in England and sounds the same for Ireland, there's something willful in the unpreparedness of the authorities i.e it never snows in London! When it does the car fumes melt it all in half an hour - but really we just want days off to play in it.

    • Sherbet Penny profile imageAUTHOR

      Sherbet Penny 

      8 years ago from Galway, Ireland.

      Haha thank you Pollyannalana.

    • Pollyannalana profile image

      Pollyannalana 

      8 years ago from US

      Ah, Iv'e had a few mud pies in my life, it won't hurt you...go ahead! Good hub.

    • Sherbet Penny profile imageAUTHOR

      Sherbet Penny 

      8 years ago from Galway, Ireland.

      Haha and probably the only comment lol thanks Janny

    • JannyC profile image

      JannyC 

      8 years ago

      As long as no one is watching to say it's mad it's sane. LOL. Beautiful story a recapture of child like innocence. No harm in that. It makes life sweeter. Also Im Number 1 comment! whoo hoo!!!

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