On Sunday evening, November 16, 2014, it started snowing. It was late, but Facebook exploded with posts about where it was snowing locally and how much was coming down. I stood at the window and watched through the trees where the security light made the flakes visible.
Because we don't live in the northwest or the New England states where an early snow is fairly common. We live in far Western Kentucky. We don't even see measurable snow every single winter - December, January or February - much less before Thanksgiving.
We knew it was coming. At least ... the weather experts said it was. But as we're all aware, they've been wrong before! Sometimes it feels as if the forecasters get it right about as many times as the folks who predict it using Woolly Worms or tree rings (locally, Dick Frymire used his Rooster named Jack). I remember many times as a teacher when forecasters were "certain" we'd get snow; I admit it, Snow Days were pretty exciting for me then. Unfortunately, the disappointment when the snow didn't come was greater than the sum of all the excitement and hype about the mere possibility! And we all remember at least one time when snow came as a big surprise even to the experts. It didn't even give us time to run out and get milk, bread and toilet paper! So, now days, I always take the forecast with a grain of salt (while secretly hoping that it WILL snow!)
This year the weathermen explained again about the Polar Vortex and how it works and why. They expounded on how unusual it was to reach so far south. But the predictions of our snowfall varied with as many different news sources that were available. All those weather computer models mean different things to the weather prophets, so by late afternoon on Sunday our snow predictions were anywhere from a dusting to five inches. As I went to bed, I wondered if the dusting we already had would dissipate overnight.
It happened while we slept, mostly unseen, so it felt magical to wake up on Monday morning to 3 1/2 inches (I measured!) on the ground.
There's just something about the first snow that harkens back to childhood snow days and going sledding down the hill with friends. I grew up on the best hill in our small town. Our house was in the middle block where the hill nearly flattened out, but the upper portion of the street was steep. With the proper ice and snow cover, a sledder could go all the way to my house and even further. Kids and adults flocked to our street when it snowed. Thankfully, the street was impassible to cars.It was always a cold, cold struggle to tramp back up the street after a dreamlike-over-too-soon journey down, but the moment we reached the top, all that huffing and puffing was worth it; and down we'd go again! Good times!
There aren't any sledding hills where I live in Western Kentucky, not even small slopes. I remember pulling my children on a sled in the yard when they were little and wishing they could experience the heart-stopping rides of my childhood snow days.
I love snow! Particularly, when there's nowhere I have to go. But these days I'm content to watch it snow and to stay toasty warm indoors!
