robiewankenobie

robiewankenobie
growing up in the country, a lot of my experiences simply enveloped me. days of grass beneath my feet. sun streaming through the trees of the woods. fresh berries from the vine. and snow. beautiful. beautiful snow.

we'd cross country ski for hours. trying new paths, reskiing the old ones. we'd sled at dr. lachandro's house next door. iff you were lucky, the turnquists would have plowed, and you could catch some serious air at the bottom of the hill. we'd even get to skate on the lake when it had frozen solid enough. winters brought an average of 180-200 inches of the beautiful stuff, and i was lost in it for its entire visit.

the first year i lived in kentucky i loved the way it snowed here. one inch of snow and the schools closed. but then i realized that it was just a masquerade. the real stuff never followed. mostly what is manufactured is ice. the temperature can never quite maintain what has fallen, it melts, and freezes almost right away. no blizzards, only ice storms.

in college i moved to michigan for awhile. our love affair commenced once again. the winters were cold, absolutely. but the snow was beautiful. the day we got married, it was below zero. and it was beautiful. the sparkling snow our companion as we left for our new life.

my friend has come for a special visit, today. i awoke to a real true blanket of snow for the first time in years. and more to come. it's still falling, and the dear weatherman says that we'll have at least another day of this. i've got to go call my mother. she loves it, too.