I love the snow when it can be enjoyed for a weekend, and then I can go home to warmer clime. We have never lived in an area that had predictable snow. I think I'm too old to enjoy that now. It is beautiful, though, I must admit.
One year in December our daughter was at Illinois State playing volleyball. We had non-refundable tickets to St. Thomas for winter break. I drove up there from Austin to pick her up and take her home for our trip. Her team won in conference playoffs and had to leave for Calif. for playoffs. My ticket to follow her team to California, on short notice, would have been nearly what tickets for three were for St Thomas. I drove on to my MIL's in upper IL to wait until DD's team was eliminated by Calif. girls. It snowed like I've never seen (growing up in the South). I got up early the next morning seeing the light coming through the window. It was probably 6 am, the view out the upstairs windows was nearly totally white with absolutely no sound. Snow was hanging from the telephone lines, banked against my car in the driveway, still coming down, and then I spotted this lone, bundled figure shoop, shooping snow off our driveway and around my car. It was a neighbor, doing what neighbors do for elderly neighbors, I assume.
I don't know how long I sat on the floor in front of the window, but I can tell you there's something magical about the snow, especially for those of us who don't get to experience it, except on those rare occasions when the stars align and our kid almost makes us have to rethink Christmas vacation. Just writing this transports me back to that morning. Absolute silence, total white-out, and incredible peace. I'd almost forgotten. I thank you.
