In a place where snow hardly falls, it’s a precious gift when it comes. I have always appreciated the snow, but sometimes, even in the south, I am alone. I hate people who sit there and gripe about others being happy to see snow. “In [insert northern place here] it snows even worse than this all the time, who cares!” some of my friends have said. Who cares if it has? Chances are the people acting like that have never seen it. We’re in the south, where it almost never snows. Why do we have to be deprived of happiness because you’re being a Scrooge?
“It’s not going to stick,” my father said. He’s always so dismissive of the snow. He never believes it will stick until it does. I always wish it will even if there is every sign it won’t. But that’s who I am, I guess–a hopeful fool. But as hopeful and foolish as I may be, I’m the one enjoying this pleasant gift and happy to see it here while others scramble to grocery stores while the roads are still safe to buy all of the bread and milk as if it’s a blizzard. “It’s just snow,” he said, and, for once, I agree.
The snow keeps piling on, and it’s so beautiful. When I move, I’ll probably see this more often, but I know I’ll be just as happy to see the snow as I always have been. Snow is just beautiful to me. The view from my window is bright and white and the snow just keeps falling. I can’t stop staring. I’m bound to be stuck like this all day. And to think I almost began to miss the spring. How could I possibly feel such a way when this is the first time this season I get to truly experience all that winter has to offer.
Today, I’m thankful for the chance to get to play in the snow. I’m thankful for the chance to spend time watching my dogs excitedly race through the yard and stare around just as amazed. I’m thankful for a warm house and hot cocoa to come back inside to when it’s just a bit too cold to stay out any longer. Today, I’m just thankful. For everything. I should do this more often.