I walked home this afternoon from the hospital. I walked out into a blast of cold air several degrees cooler than from where I remembered starting my day. Turning down the hill toward home I thought I saw something. And then another. Teeny. Tiny. Fleeting. Not dust. Not ash. Not a raindrop or a mist. Nope. Hello, snowflake.
By the time I took the dog out for is final go-round this evening it was, in fact, snowing. Not sticking to the grass and eyelashes, but falling in a real visible volume.
When it comes to snow I'm a kid at heart. I hope for snow days. I hope for weeks and weeks of snowy weather. Like a good thunderstorm, I always hope each beautiful snowfall won't be the last of the season-- leastways not until April.
It's too early for all that. I know areas of the country have already been hammered but, so far, the flakes I saw today had more of a postcard greeting in mind then the intent of moving into the 'hood. Nonetheless, I'll be ready with a cup of hot cocoa when they show up in earnest.
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