I come from a family of weather watchers. I suppose it was born from our agricultural background and reliance on God’s provisional balance of sun and rain. But in any case, it’s not often I find myself caught off guard by what the sky throws at me on any given day.
Which was why, as I made a brief stop in at our local Aldi yesterday, the cashier’s news was surprising.
“I’m alright, just waiting for this weather to turn,” was his answer when I asked how he was doing. It had been a soggy, rainy morning— much like the long months of winter in Western Washington.
“Isn’t it supposed to rain until tomorrow?” I asked.
“No, ma’am. Supposed to start snowing in about two hours.”
Snow? In two hours? How on earth did I miss that?
Living in a climate where snow falls only a handful of times each winter (and sticks even less than that), I keep an eye on winter weather predictions. Like most areas where snow and ice are a rarity, any accumulation at all means that life grinds to a halt. And unlike many of the grumbling newcomers to East Tennessee, I get it. While I personally live off of roads that would be passable under a few inches of snow, a great chunk of the population here does not. Winding roads, steep hills, one-lane cut throughs with no shoulders… all of these are so common as to be the norm for for most anyone not in a neighborhood or directly off a main highway. Winter storms—even mild ones— are precarious things here.
I headed home bearing the weather update and, as you can guess, there was a ripple of excitement. Even more so when the rain turned to sleet half an hour later… and the sleet obligingly turned to snow.
I’ll be honest, I lasted about twenty minutes outside. The creek was calling to my kids; snow was a new wrinkle to their normal play, and they were unable to resist. As for me, I was unable to resist a cup of tea, a piece of shortbread, my knitting, and my favorite chair conveniently located in the glow of the Christmas lights. I had a lovely view of the falling flakes, and drank it in until my crew of red-cheeked adventurers burst in to shed their sodden clothes nearly two hours later.
I woke up to about two inches still on the ground this morning. No doubt the farm chores this morning will take on a life of their own as work becomes play. I expect I’ll journey back out, as well. There’s a two-hour delay for our local public schools. I’ll follow their lead. No reason to rush past the beauty of this unexpected blessing of snow— for my children, or for myself!