Today it is snowing, very lightly, and we are being warned that we might have accumulations of up to 10 inches of snow by tomorrow afternoon.  I am not sure I am quite ready for that, since this is our first real snowfall this year.  I like to move into the deeper snow a bit more gently than to have the first snowfall the big one.  It takes my back a little time to get into the routine of shoveling snow, and the snow blower does not handle more than a 5 inch depth.

That said, I love the snow.  I love watching it fall.  I delight in watching it slowly (most of the time) cover the grass and the evergreen boughs.  Snow is a wonder that I could sit in my window and watch for hours.

When we get a really dry snow, you can hear the squeak and crunch of it when you walk.  I read somewhere recently that snow makes noise when it falls on water, and I would love to hear that someday.

I remember winters when I was little.  We lived on a steep hill that was over four blocks long, with just one cross street.  After dinner in the evenings, all of the kids in the neighborhood would get their sleds and our dads would stand at the crossing and along the sides of the hill to make sure we were safe as we flew down that hill–and then began the long trudge back up!  What fun we had.  A brother and sister in the neighborhood were Olympic-level ice skaters, and occasionally they would skate down part of the hill, and we would all watch.

Nowadays, we are surprised when it snows in my old home town.  But I remember that we always had good sledding winters as I was growing up.  I do not have a sledding hill where I live now, but if I did I would be out there being a kid again in the winter.


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