Spring has arrived and snow is forecast for tomorrow night. I'm in two minds about whether I want it to snow or not. (Yep, I know, it's not actually up to me.)
We've gone all winter with no more than a skiff on the surrounding hills and I feel a tad ripped off. I like the way snow makes the world fresh and new under its thick white blanket. The air is crisp. There is a strange silence, punctuated by children laughing as they build snowmen. I even like the puddles of greyish brown water the children deposit just inside the door. Outside it smells fresh with that particular 'snowy' smell. Inside it's woodsmoke, soup and the cheesy aroma of mousetraps.
We can get overly romantic about something we haven't experienced for awhile. We forget the cold numb fingers, the dirty sodden mess of lawn after the thaw, and the broken bones or crumpled fenders. There are plenty of people who are pleased about our mild winter.
So, whether it snows or not, I'll be thankful I've never experienced more than five inches of snow and grateful I live in a time of electricity, heat pumps, and telecommunications.