Last Wednesday was this winter’s first snow. Over a foot of thick, heavy, beautifully clean snow. It was amazing, Tuesday night when the first flakes started falling, I watched Facebook explode in excitement. Statuses as simple as “Snow…<3” to exclamations of smiley faces paragraphs long. A couple of people weren’t so excited about it – mostly those that had to drive – but most were hoping for a snow day, excited and ready to welcome the new season, even if it’s a little early.
To me, it wasn’t a big deal. Snow is snow. It means my siblings – all six of them – will get up early and shovel people’s driveways. It means I’ll probably be forgotten and allowed to sleep in for once, but only until 8:30 or so when Mom remembers that I’m supposed to be up. It means zipping coats, helping with mittens, making cocoa, and praying that my siblings don’t drive me stir crazy before the snow melts.
Then it fades, a few days and the yard is showing patches of grass. There’s huge piles of leaves everywhere, shed instantly after the snow made sure to rid most of the trees of the extra weight. Along the sides of the road, you see piles and piles of branches, waiting to be picked up by the city. Some people went without power for two, three days while repairs were made after branches brought down power lines. Everything goes back to normal by Sunday.
On Monday, there’s only a little left. Tuesday night, it’s all gone. Then, Wednesday morning welcomes…..more snow. This time, I’m pretty excited. I’ve gotten used to the idea of winter, and now it’s pretty, the endless sea of white and the late morning are awesome. I’m okay with zipping coats, pulling on mittens and making cocoa. Maybe, I’ll even make a snow fort. The problem with this? My siblings are done with snow forts. They want to sled but we don’t have a good hill around so if we want to, we have to drive to a good place. We’re too busy for that. So I’ll stay inside, enjoy the warmth, and just expect to go crazy.
Hopefully it doesn’t take too long. I don’t like waiting.