Snow, Snow, Snow!

Snow’s coming! Snow’s coming! I’m spinning in circles with giddy joy.

Snow has a smell and a sound. I’m dead serious. It smells damp and winter-y and a bit like childhood magic. And it sounds like silence. It muffles every noise, every angry car motor, every yelling teenager. Try opening up your window next time it snows, and I promise that you’ll agree with me.

What’s our fascination with snow, anyways? It’s just precipitation. We don’t run around and throw rainwater scooped from puddles into the air. (Okay, I have been known to do that on occasion, but that’s not the point.) But snow stays the way that rain doesn’t. It sticks to our houses, yards, trees, cars. It turns hills into slick tracks for sleds. We have to shovel it out of the way so that we can easily leave our houses. You can pack it into lumps and hurl them at friends and then throw your hands up in front of your face and turn your back as they lob one back at you. It gets into your coat, caught in your eyelashes and hair, tries to suck your boots off when you wade through it.

It covers everything and hides all the imperfections. Lumpy grass? Now the same as the neighbors gorgeous lawn. Window box full of dead plants?  Now beautiful suspended drifts under the windows. Everything is smoothed and entirely peaceful until you burst out of your door and go charging through it, breaking it up with your footprints, snowmen, snow angels, sled tracks.

Though I’m old enough to know how much of a pain (literally) it is to shovel and how it tends to ruin plans, I can’t help but love it. My government and politics group can attest to how excited I got when a bulldozer came down our street to plow last Friday. (I’m telling you, it was the most amazing thing ever with the exception of the time that I watched a backhoe plow our hill at two in the morning. It had the funniest contraption to provide light and had to go up and down around five times to clear the street)

Nothing makes me happier than to wake up and discover that the world is blanketed in snow. The rumor is that we’re going to have a snow day tomorrow, and because the district website has just posted their system for informing parents, I think that it’s going to happen. I plan on twisting myself into a pretzel as soon as I finish this post to help make sure that it comes true. I will also be flushing the toilet at nine o’clock, doing a snow dance, and sleeping with a spoon under my pillow and my pajamas inside-out.

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