thoughts on snow

I’ve always loved the beauty of snow.

Growing up in the south, snow was something beautiful, something magical that showed up over night, and turned my yard into a big, white sparkly blanket. We got out of school for flurries, and when it did accumulate and ice over (which was only occasional) we were able to sled down the hills in my neighborhood. Snow angels, snowmen, and snowballs were the focus of my day when the snow fell in Alabama.

Now that I’ve moved farther north, I am experiencing snow’s evil twin.

Snow is everywhere, and it has been for a few days now. It’s frozen the doors on my car shut, blanketed my yard, and I had to buy a snow brush to get it off my car in the mornings. I was ecstatic about the weather until today.

My windshield wipers were frozen to my windshield, and I couldn’t open my gas tank when I stopped to get gas. (I lost what was left of my pride by ice-picking away at the door with my Giant Eagle Advantage card.) The snow on the street is nasty and brown, and the snow in my yard doesn’t look quite as inviting as it did yesterday. People keep saying it gets worse.

I feel like at this moment a song applies….

Take me down to the paradise city
Where the grass is green
And the snow is pretty
Take me home (Oh, won’t you please take me home)

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