The Many Faces of Snow

The white fluffy stuff is here in earnest. Well, I guess it won't always stay on the fluffy side. Tomorrow, in fact, it's supposed to be heavy and sleety. I didn't know there were so many types of snow; I just know the kind in which I'm happy to play, and the rougher kind I would rather watch from behind a window.

When we returned home from our evacuation jaunt the snow was light, but on top of it was a layer of ice that made one feel as if she were walking in styrofoam. That led to this funny conversation:

R: When I was a boy, and the snow was crunchy like that, I'd make heart shapes and lift them off the ground.
Sweet Potato: Heart shapes?
R: Yeah, the snow is hard enough, so that you can lift the shapes right up.
SP: Not rectangles or squares? Heart shapes?
R (standing a bit taller): I was a sensitive boy.

Last night as we headed down to the FMF's house to fix their computer (have you noticed how the FMF are plural and singular, like deer?) the snow came down in the teeny tiniest flakes that sparkled when they hit the light. It looked like silver glitter falling everywhere.

Today the snow is heavy and feathery, and when the wind hits the fallen snow it creates snow dust. There's probably a more accurate term for it, but I never knew it existed until now. I also didn't know the birds would like to frolic in the falling flakes. They've been out there all day fluttering around the bird seed and teasing each other. It's like watching an illustration from a book of Robert Louis Stevenson poems.

I'm sure there are more types of snow to learn, but that will have to wait because I'm still recovering from this nasty head cold. Sweet Potato ventured out there with Tap Girl, though. They sledded down the hill and then came in for hot chocolate-- an afternoon about which Sweet Potato has been dreaming since we decided to move here. We learned that she needs ski pants and snow boots.

Buckaroo was out there, too, working on snow balls, still trying to re-enact Peter's Snowy Day.

I stayed indoors and made bread in my new bread machine, a late birthday/early-Christmas present from R and his parents. I opened it today, in time for solstice. Tomorrow we'll celebrate the return of the light with home-made bread and summer jam, courtesy of Grammy Flo.

Thank the goddesses for the light-- and may it get the molasses out of its a**!
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Comments

Janice said…
Maybe we should come up with new words for snow like the Eskimos.