Winter in Northeastern Ohio

Winter is the longest season in Northern Ohio. When Ohioans go outside and the breath gets snatched from their lungs and their nose hairs freeze upon the first inhale, they know the season has reached its climax. Most people are able to ski until May. I was born on May 10^th, and last year it snowed on my birthday. I haven’t been skiing since my early years of high school, but I can picture every slope effortlessly in my mind. It is a small resort compared to places in Colorado or New York. All of Boston Mills could fit in a single cell phone picture. The skinny, steep, strip of land sandwiched by the Cuyahoga National Park. The notorious flammable river in front, and the thick forest behind.

That’s how the National Park was created. There are slivers of it here and there, parts of it cut out for suburban developments. In Peninsula, at a different side of the river, shops and restaurants were built for the bikers, walkers, canoers, and kayakers that visited the valley. My Grandparents house was one of the suburban developments that coexisted with men’s creations and untouched nature. Their hilly backyard is Cuyahoga National Park property. Their neighborhood built on a giant slope in the land. The slope dipped and went back up again like a giant ‘V’. Most of the land is like that on that side of the park. When I was younger and spent a lot of time there, I was always afraid the house would slide down the hill one day, and crash into the sharp incline that began the property of the Nation’s Park. I hated hills and mountains. I dreaded the possibility of slipping and falling and gaining a great momentum that sent my stomach up to my throat. Needless to say, I only like to ski on the kiddie slopes. The thirty-five-degree angle ones.