Winter Wonderland

Well well well... North Alabama has finally been on the receiving end of a little light snow. It's nothing that will stick of course. That honor is reserved for those lucky northern states who actually get to have a winter. If I sound jealous, it's because I am.

I grew up in the northern states. I spent many of my childhood days out playing in the snow. We did everything: snowball fights, building snowmen, sledding, snow angels... One year in New Hampshire the snow was so deep we built intricate tunnels and igloos. Our school had a huge playground and field, and they held a contest to see who could build the most creative snow sculpture. I forgot what won, but there were some very talented students.

Another strong memory was from Michigan. It was about a week before Christmas, and there was a good snow storm that gave us about 18" of snow. It was after dusk, so all the Christmas lights were on, and their colors were reflecting off the snow in a dazzling display. I remember holding my cup of hot cocoa close to my face, letting the steam roll off my chin and nose, standing in the middle of the yard. I could turn around and watch the tumultuous waves of Lake Michigan swirl about in anger, as the storm's winds whipped over them. I must have stood there for an hour or more, letting fat flakes pile high on the hood of my arctic coat.

If it sounds like I have some romantic sentiments over a bunch of frozen water, I do. The whole curling up in front of the fireplace thing... yeah, I'm a sucker for that. To walk outside and smell dozens of wood burning stoves in the crisp air would also be something quite magical. So, dear friends, when I whoop and holler over a few flurries in a land that sees an average of less than a quarter inch of accumulation per year, I hope you understand where I am coming from.

Today's flurries have been going off and on for several hours, and has begun to accumulate on unused cars and in some patches of grass. Hoping to enjoy some of nature's festivities, I put on my thick white arctic coat and headed for my personal observatory over the Tennessee River.

I hesitate to break the mood, but I'm proud to announce that I was actually able to fully zip up my arctic coat. You see, when you're a complete fatass trying to lose weight, and you haven't been able to zip up this particular coat in years, it really gives you a great feeling and sense of accomplishment.

Anyway, the actual snowfall during my brief winter wanderlust was light. I watched as a salt truck moved slowly across the bridges on Highway 31, and I watched as a train passed below my feet, headed south. Deeply I breathed it's diesel fumes and watched as all it's cars were topped with snow gathered in lands far north of here. The cold winter wind licked the lobes of my ears and the tip of my nose, and for a brief moment... I remembered.