I’ll admit it. When I saw yesterday’s temperature of 56 degrees, I doubted all the weather reports forecasting a snowstorm. Like the ant in Aesop’s fable, winter snows seemed only a distant possibility. It was warm. It was sunny. It felt like early spring.
However, the overcast sky that Cooper and I set out under this morning told a different story all together. We had hardly gotten to our first corner when we felt them: little, hard, white pellets. They started lightly at first, but pretty soon Cooper was shaking his head the way he does in the rain. Those determined pellets were pestering his ears and nose.
As we progressed around the next corner, they were coming down steadily; it was as if the sky had become a giant sifter. If I listened closely I could hear their tck, tck, tck mounting an assault on trees, bushes, and roadways. In and of themselves these tiny pellets had no chance against our warmer earth, but this unwavering campaign of tiny beads binding together was making a successful advance, and in fact white was starting to cover the driveways throughout our neighborhood. (Not to mention the top of Cooper’s head and haunches!)
In light of this steady progression, my priorities were shifting too. Maybe I should make a quick trip to the grocery store. I wonder if my appointments will cancel this afternoon. Where are those snow shovels anyway. It was bound to happen some time; we do live in the Midwest after all. The teacher in me started applauding–slowly at first but quickly gaining momentum– “SNOW DAY!”
Let it come then! Let it come! Let those little beads march onward and whitewash everything! Cooper and I will still have the last word when we enjoy a good romp across the front lawn this afternoon.
