To be sure, this winter has blessed — or cursed, depending on your perspective — us with more snow than several recent winters.

Yet this winter has been no old-fashioned winter.

Old-fashioned winters have way more snow than this.

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An old-fashioned winter in Western New York is one in which Mayville’s public tally of snowfall runs into the multiple hundreds of inches.

An old-fashioned winter in Western New York is one in which–even in some places less susceptible to snow–storms dropping a foot of the white stuff are at least weekly events.

An old-fashioned winter in Western New York is one in which children dig out snow banks in safe places and build snow forts.

An old-fashioned winter in Western New York is one in which side streets that are hills with little traffic have enough of a base for runner sleds.

An old-fashioned winter in Western New York is one in which high temperatures don’t get above freezing for days and days on end.

An old-fashioned winter in Western New York has days with high–yes, high–temperatures below zero.

An old-fashioned winter in Western New York has days with low temperatures significantly below zero, with some in the minus teens or minus twenties.

An old-fashioned winter in Western New York has snow starting significantly before Thanksgiving.

An old-fashioned winter in Western New York is one with the ground covered until April.

An old-fashioned winter in Western New York is one in which downhill skiing lasts until April, with some skiers wearing shorts.

An old-fashioned winter in Western New York has snow banks that, because they’re protected by trees, melt in May.

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An old-fashioned winter in Western New York is one in which–with a heads up to local law enforcement in advance, to prevent any misunderstanding–a certain Groom-to-be from Western New York could envision something that never came to pass: Taking his Bride-to-be from Southern California to an empty, unplowed parking lot so that she could begin learning how to drive in heavy snow.

Including which way to turn the steering wheel if the car fishtails.

As you, gentle reader from Western New York, well understand: Which way to turn the steering wheel if the car fishtails is counterintuitive. That’s one of those driving skills that one can learn either the easy way or the hard way. To learn it the hard way, one needs to spin out only once.

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A really old-fashioned winter in Western New York occurred when Cockaigne, in Cherry Creek, had more than 200 days of skiing.

A really old-fashioned winter in Western New York occurred when all public schools unexpectedly closed for a week. Yes, it was this week.

An old-fashioned–or a really old-fashioned–winter would be welcomed by some and not by others.

Either way: Barring a surprise, this winter won’t be an old-fashioned winter, much less a really old-fashioned winter.

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It’s funny how people from different places view ordinary things differently.

Before our wedding, the future Mrs. Elf came to visit on many occasions. Once when the Groom-to-be was trying to turn left onto Fairmount Avenue in West Ellicott, he complained about the heavy “traffic.”

To the Bride-to-be, a Los Angeles native, “traffic” is a six-lane-in-each-direction interstate highway that–for all practical purposes–has turned into a parking lot.

“What traffic?” she asked.

To anyone from a big city, complaining about “traffic” on Fairmount Avenue is hilarious.

Similarly, in October before our Dec. 28 wedding in Jamestown, she asked if we could take photos outside the church before the wedding.

To anyone from Western New York, that question is hilarious.

You, faithful reader of this column, will recall that on Dec. 28 that year, it was sunny and 50 degrees.

Yes, sunny and 50.

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When Randy Elf was little, he walked through heavy snow to and from Samuel G. Love Elementary School in Jamestown, uphill both ways.

COPYRIGHT (c) 2025 BY RANDY ELF