It snowed overnight, and it’s still snowing. This is our first sizable snowfall since October, and it’s supposed to stick around this time, too.
When I was a child, I loved snow so much. My parents live in a wind vortex, and their T-shaped home forms the coolest drifts. A snow-shelf would harden over the top of a drift, and I would burrow into the side of it as a makeshift snow fort.
Somewhere in my teens, I started to hate snow. My mom says it’s because I would stand outside with wet hair in the horrible wind gusts, waiting for the bus. “It’s a wonder you didn’t get sick.”
For the past year-and-a-half, I’ve been responsible for outside time with the dog(s). There is something beautiful about a part-husky pup tossing snow with his nose. Old-man dog did it, too. Our newest edition (no husky that we know of) also loves snow. In fact, for the first time, instead of running to the door when he’s ready to come in, he leaps onto the porch, takes a look around at what our neighbors across the street are doing, and then heads back out into the snow. Now I have two dogs I can’t get in the house, even after I walk around the yard with them.
These peaceful moments in the falling white cold have restored my awe and love of snow. Here we are on the twelfth of January, with our first measurable snowfall of 2019. We were outside in t-shirts earlier this month. Climate change is real, y’all. If snow becomes a thing of the past in the Midwest, I’m going to cherish it while it’s here.