Snow Day

It starts falling when we’re at the hardware store, filling the propane tank. At first I try to downplay it for the kids. I don’t want them to be disappointed if it turns out to be just a couple flurries, which is all we’re likely to get in this part of the world. Still, the chickadees and titmice were particularly chatty and busy this morning. Maybe.

Driving back to the campsite though I can see it’s sticking to the ground in the colder areas, the tops of trees, on grass in open fields. The birds are on to something I think. I allow myself to get a little excited. The kids are way ahead of me, yelling about a real snow day.

By the time we get back to the site it’s coming down hard and clearly sticking to the ground. Jackets and gloves go on, everyone piles outside into the winter wonderland.

Anyone living north of Georgia will probably chuckle at this amount of snow. I know. I lived in Massachusetts for a few years. It’s not snow much, but it’s enough to put smiles on everyone’s faces.

Maybe it’s more special because it is harder to come by snow in these parts. Six inches of snow in this part of Georgia somehow feels more miraculous than three feet ever did in Northampton. Maybe I am just weird though, I used to get excited every time it snowed up there too. Even when it snowed in May. There’s just something great about snow.

This was not the first time the kids have seen snow, but it might as well have been — it’s been years since they’ve been in it.

I always say we chase the weather, and we try to, but when you fail at that, then you might as well get some snow out of it. And for once, we did.

After an hour so the cold began to set in. We don’t really have the clothes for snow. Cotton is not your friend in a snowball fight. Wet and cold I was ready to warm up. Lilah was undaunted though. She made me take her for a snow hike.

We walked down the river to see snow on the covered bridge, but water was running high and cold made white vapor that all but obscured the bridge. On the hike back the cold finally overcame her and I carried her the last half mile up the hill. We caught a couple last snowflakes on our tongues and ducked inside to dry off and drink hot cocoa. And play a few intensely competitive games of Uno. As you do.

The world seemed to warm up with us. By the time we went back outside for round two, melting snow was coming down like a hard rain. By evening our white wonderland was gone.