Years and years ago, we used to have the big snows. I remember driving home one night from work after a big snow storm had hit and everyone was driving about 3 miles an hour because the snow was piled so deeply on the road, it had made it nearly impassible. But we haven't had snow like that for a long time.
Until now.
In March. When a logical person might think the chance for significant snowfall would likely be over, we got the biggest snow in a decade dumped on us. Luckily, we had plenty of warning and pretty much everyone in town could run to the store and stock up on bread and milk, the two staples apparently everyone needs to survive an apocalypse of this nature. We already had our vitally important supplies of bread and milk, so I just headed straight home when they dismissed school early. We got a dusting in the evening but the worst of it hit Friday night and early Saturday morning, while we were sleeping. And we woke up to this.
As with pretty much any event that occurs in my life nowadays, I immediately thought "I must blog this!", threw on some clothes and grabbed my camera. I honestly can't remember the last time my boots sank in the snow this much.
The bushes and trees had a thick coating of the clean, white snow.
It wasn't very early, but hardly anyone was out and about. I saw a man walking a dog that was eagerly snuffling in the snow and a young man loading a red sled into a car. It was silent. The snow was still drifting lazily down and the already fallen snow was clean and pristine.
Icy rain had fallen before the snow.
A cardinal perched lightly in a tree, sheltered from the falling snow. And the snow kept whispering down. Silently whispering down.
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