Frosty did not handle it well, his rather disheveled appearance symptomatic of a premature meltdown. Frosty’s namesake song, released in 1950, has for generations been a happy seasonal jingle (or, for the Grinches out there, an annoying earworm) eliciting fond memories of childhood (with the inevitable, tragic, end-of-winter puddle left unspoken). Little did we suspect that his story was a prescient tale of life imitating art and the climate-disrupted future awaiting us.Courtesy of Steve Wilson in Isabella
R.I.P And then came Christmas and an unusual late-December thaw (at least they used to be unusual) punctuated by an unprecedented 1.4” rainfall.
