Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow

I sang “Let it Snow” before I ever heard the song. No doubt, there are some universal titles that most of us can conjure up without even knowing them, and this title is one I sang at the onset of winter.

Snow was always such a magical and miraculous element that I could hardly wait to see all the little white flakes falling from the sky like flour from my mother’s sifter. Now, let me explain this, in Southern Arkansas, we had winter every year but not like the winters of the North, Midwest and East Coast. I think it snowed every year. We may have missed one or two, but usually it snowed in our parts. Since it rained in the winter, we had ice and icicles but not always snow.

There are several reasons I longed for snow. Number one. When it snowed, we didn’t have to go to work, or school, or anyplace else. Mother Nature was gracious to us and not only gave us snow but she gave us the day (or days) off.

We could stay inside and gaze from the comfort of our easy chairs, or as is true of kids, we could go “dashing through the snow”, which, of course we did, but not in a one-horse open sleigh but rather in our worn-out, thread-bare shoes. I explained this before that when we had to go to work, we thought it was just too cold to be outdoors. But when it snowed, we could hardly wait to burst through the door to go frolic in the snow.

Watching snow fall was so much fun. It got our adrenalin going, and it was the highlight of our winter to have at least one day to have snowballs fights or just simply tromp around in the white, pristine landscape.

Number two. Our world was sometimes a little drab, and for a while snow placed a lovely cover over everything that was ugly or unsightly. Houses and trees and grass and anything outside appeared so serene as they lay draped in a blanket of white eiderdown – a blanket that I wished would never melt.

Number three. We could make snow ice cream. That’s right, ice cream made from freshly fallen snow. We ate store-bought ice cream in the winter, but we also made it with the soft, white flakes that fell straight from heaven.

Number four. Our house was on a corner lot. East of it was a large plot of land on which nothing but a large shade tree grew. The landscape was somewhat unusual, quite unlike anything I had ever seen before. The parcel must have been a thousand acres, and the earth slanted down in a funnel-like shape. I had never heard of the ski slopes of Switzerland or Vail, Colorado, but I doubt that their landscapes were any more beautiful than this plot of ground. When it snowed and the sun shone on this parcel, it was simply breathtaking. The snow sparkled like diamonds underneath the bright winter sun. I could have looked at that picture postcard view for days. If only I had had a color camera. I could have preserved its enchanting beauty forever, but since I didn’t have a camera – color or otherwise – my mind photographed the scene and whenever I want, I replay it – winter or summer.

Published on Dec 27, 2013

Grit Magazine

Live The Good Life with GRIT!