And it did yesterday.
Lots and lots and lots.
I adore the snow. I know I seem to be in a minority and my Dad will read this post and grumble. In a few more months I’ll be whining about the heat and wishing for the snow. I’ve been trying to get extra “cold” time because I know it will be gone before I’m ready for it to.
Still, there is something so sweet, so calming, so purely beautiful about falling snow. There is also something else oddly magical about it. It may be an attitude left over from the “snow days” of my childhood. A day when the snow is just falling thickly and continuously is still a “snow day”. It’s a day to stay inside and to cuddle up with the family.
Of course it’s very likely that it’s not the snow that I love. But the chance to be covered in woolies, sitting in front of a fire, spinning. You can’t do that in 90F weather with 70% humidity.
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