Oh, how I once loved snow days.
The truth is, I don’t know whether it was the day itself or the excitement of listening for our school to be called out on the radio as being closed.
One year, Santa brought us a sled, complete with metal runners and a rope for steering. As I remember it, we didn’t get a flake of snow that year. But over the years, we played with that sled plenty of times.
We also had several other devices that served as sleds. We used a galvanized metal trash can lid and a really big plastic laundry basket as makeshift sleds.
Our outdoor escapades continued until we were drenched from the snow and had to undress in the entrance hall to keep from dripping all over the house.
I don’t have any good photos of my brother and me in the snow; however, the images are forever etched in my mind.
Last week, I enjoyed seeing some neighborhood kids playing in the snow on their hilly driveway.
First of all, it is good to see kids using their imaginations and playing outside. I’m sure there were some whiners who opted to stay inside and play video games or whatever kids do these days.
Second, I’m at the stage that my kids are too old to just play in the snow, although one of them tried her skills at snowboarding on a Lumpkin County hillside. I saw her attempts via social media.
One of the good things about Facebook is seeing the pictures of your friends’ kids and grandkids in the snow. There is nothing cuter than a kid with rosy cheeks from playing in the white stuff.
There is nothing better than looking out your window and seeing big fluffy flakes of snow. I also enjoy that moment when your lawn is coated in white and the house has a roof coating to match. It’s a moment when you want to grab your camera and take the picture for your Christmas card.
But there is also nothing better than seeing a hillside where the snow has been worn away by active kids playing.
We went out West a little more than a year ago and saw snow like we had never seen it before. There were big drifts of 2 or 3 feet. The snow was large flakes that would float away with a puff of breath.
I went back to the same region in May and was surprised to see some of the mountain passages were closed because of snow. Frozen precipitation in May was a new experience for me.
There is something so silly and wonderful about our frantic search for bread and milk at the first sign of inclement winter weather.
I cooked a batch of scrambled eggs and bacon and enjoyed them while looking at the pristine snow across our backyard last week. I didn’t use milk or bread in the process, but sitting on the counter was a full loaf of white bread and a brand-new gallon of milk was in the refrigerator.
Now, we didn’t make a special trip to acquire the two, but for some reason it felt good to have them on hand as we watched the flakes of white come to rest on our house and yard.
Yes, I still love snow days.
Harris Blackwood is a Gainesville resident whose columns appear on the Sunday Life page and on gainesvilletimes.com/harris.