The wind has been howling and snow blowing down from the sky.
My thin southern blood is no match for the cold. No matter the layers and hot cups of tea, my fingers and toes will always be cold. Yet, as I bundle up to keep myself warm, the boys think that shorts and t-shirts are fine and jackets are optional when heading outside.
They’ve been cheering, roaring and celebrating all afternoon while watching the snow fall from the sky.
They’ve been begging to put the shovels to work and speculating on how many piles they’ll make while plotting the snowman they’ll create.
It is a blizzard out there and it’s covering everything!
Come here and see!
For sure Mom, I know, they’ll have to cancel school.
I’m sure of it, really, I am! No school tomorrow, for sure Mom, I know!
Not quite a blizzard and I’m sure they’ll have school. But the first snow each winter, as I remember, was always quite breathtaking, thrilling and incredible.
Snow can be especially breathtaking, thrilling and incredible when you live in the South.