Views and Reviews
By Jean McCamy
I woke up last Saturday morning in a very Bah-Humbug sort of a mood. After listening to sleet peppering down off and on during the night, I didn’t even want to look outside. I was pretty sure those several inches of white fluffy snow we were expecting had passed us by, as happens so often around here. And I was right.
I grumped around, watching the frantic little birds at the feeders and one cold, twitchy squirrel who had found the wealth of acorns tucked under the leaves on the deck. Shoot, there wasn’t even enough accumulation to cover up those leaves.
It was not a pretty morning — just cold and wet. But then, about mid-morning, we started getting some real snow, fine and hard at first, but ending in mid-afternoon with pretty, fluffy flakes.
We still didn’t get the plentiful blanket of white that the weather persons had almost promised us, but we did get a good ground cover and some frosting on the trees and shrubbery. It was pretty, especially when the sun came out.
I don’t know why I still get so excited about snow. Since I don’t have a dog that has to be walked and I can fill one of the bird feeders from inside the house, I may not even get out in it until it has started melting enough to leave open spots. And I’m certainly not going to drive anywhere.
But I do love to look at it and I remember what a thrill it is to children and always hate to see them disappointed by a bust of a forecast.
I wish I could get my husband to adopt my attitude toward snow, but I know that is not going to happen. He is going to walk in it at once, even though there is very little chance there will be either a newspaper or mail delivered down our little dirt road for several days. And he is going to drive in it as soon as he can find a valid excuse. After all, to all the males I know, snow and ice are the modern-day dragons just waiting to be slain. Sir Robert is ready to make his charge!