Let It Snow...

We spent Christmas in Wisconsin visiting Heidi’s mother in Waunakee, a suburb of Madison. This was my fourth or fifth visit but my first when there was snow on the ground. Now, I have been when it was cold as a witches titty, but not snowy.

There were at least 22 inches on the ground when we got there.

Seriously.

Folks up there are used to it. I, however, am not. I still act as though I am 10 years old and out for school on a snow day. I was chastised because I got my pants wet making snow angels and I insisted on traipsing through snow banks instead of walking to the house on the sidewalks which were cleared of snow. It just made more sense that way.

But some things I had forgotten. Like how quiet snow is. It muffles any sound and seems to absorb even the slightest noise. I forget this as I live in an inner city neighborhood and even as I write this the sound of the interstate intrudes into an otherwise quiet night. Summitt and I ventured out each morning at 4:00 am. Her idea, not mine but despite the un Christian hour, I am grateful for the reminder. On our first night we were greeted with a full moon shining just above a neighbor’s blue Christmas lights. The silver and blue hue was beautiful. Even to my sleepy eyes. Summitt had to tug on me to go back in.

Friday morning brought another 5 inches. I ate breakfast in the sun room that looked into the backyard. I was mesmerized by the snowfall. Not heavy at all but it was enough for me who thinks 2 inches is a big storm.

Friday was a gift. I was reminded all day of my mom’s tense relationship with the weather. She lived in snow in upstate New York, yet dreaded it immensely here in the south. Not that I blame her. But on this day, I remembered what she did love about it… to lay on the couch with a book and a cup of hot chocolate, letting the dog settle in at her feet, and watching out the window. So I spent some time doing just that. It was good.

Yeah. I could get used to it.