Winter weather in the south is often a hit-or-miss event. There are some years where we have so many snow days occur that our district calendar is modified to make up for the loss of instructional time. There are other years where rain and sleet are the best we get, making for a long, dark season with no surprises.
Despite the uncertainty of a snowstorm in our area coming to fruition, we – and I speak for so many who live here, trust me – get a little over-the-top excited by even the potential of some snow on the ground.
It’s a big deal.
Our local forecasters have been watching this most recent storm drape its snow and rain bands across the country from west to east. You can hear the excitement in their voices as their projections shift from “maybe a trace” to “several inches possible.”
Children start to get giddy, talking about wearing their pajamas inside out, flushing ice cubes down the toilet, and placing spoons under pillows. (Don’t ask me how or why these rituals began, but they are so common that the Today show even published a post about them!)
I did the only thing a southern Momma could do in times like this.
I went to the grocery store.
Apparently, every other southern Momma had the same idea, because there were no parking spaces to be found. The lack of available carts was reminiscent of pre-COVID Black Friday shopping days, where everyone scrambled just to get in the door.
Lines of four to five people deep blocked aisles as everyone stocked up on the essentials: milk, bread, and toilet paper. I made a beeline for the hot chocolate aisle and grabbed two of the few remaining boxes on the shelf.
After coming home and putting my groceries away, I peeked at Facebook to see if our weather guru, Andrew Freiden with NBC12, had any updates on his page. It still looked promising. We might get some snow!
As I scrolled through the rest of my feed, I was struck by the kindness I saw in people’s posts, wanting to share outgrown boots and bibs with those in need.
Even my text message threads were filled with offers of kindness for the storm:
Reading these posts made my heart soar and brought back memories of when my children were little. I was reminded of a time when I, too, had snow boots to share and couldn’t wait to bless someone else. After all, when you live in the south where snow is never a guarantee, it’s not really a necessary expenditure to stock up on these things year after year.
But as a child?
There is no greater joy than playing outside in the snow.
When I went to sleep last night, there was excitement in the air. The projections looked good. The temperature was below freezing and the snow/rain line had shifted further south. Even so, there was always a possibility that things could change, as shown by our meteorologist’s last post of the evening:
Things could shift overnight. That sneaky rain line could move up and we might awaken with wet streets and muddy yards. Only time would tell. There was nothing we could do but wait and hope for the best, our supplies in place just in case they were needed.
Hours passed in darkness.
The morning dawn brought white skies that stretched across the horizon.
There was snow on the ground.
JOY!
As I raced to the front door to take a few snapshots (you would have thought that I was the child, my eagerness so apparent), I felt a funny notch in my throat as I glanced to the right and saw the snow covered street where our snow hill used to be.
The last time we had enough snow for sleds, that street was a cul-de-sac wrapped with a forest where my children spent hours sledding through the trees. Today there are houses lined along the edges of a road that connect one neighborhood to the next. Their childhood snow day experiences are now memories of the mind and faded photographs stored in a box.
Landscapes change.
Seasons change.
Children change.
Adults do, too.
Capture the moments of joy when they happen. Give yourself permission to simply be in the moment and soak up the fun while you can. Whether it’s buying hot chocolate, pulling out ski bibs and boots, or measuring the snow with a ruler, make those memories while you can.
You just never know when the snow may turn to rain.
