The First Snow

As anyone who knows me can tell you, I’m not a big fan of the winter season.  Here in upstate NY, it drags on much too long with the season beginning in mid-November and if we’re lucky, ending in mid-April though we have had snow as late as May in the past.  The area I live in gets an average of about 110 inches of snow each winter. 

Every October, I always say I’m moving south where it’s warm and has very little snow if any but I’m always still here every year.  I stay mainly because all of my family lives here and I can’t imagine not seeing them on a weekly, if not daily, basis.  It certainly isn’t because of the weather.  I hate the cold, the icy roads, the drivers who drive like speed demons despite the treacherous conditions, and of course, the snow itself.

 

Except for that very first snow of the season where it comes down in fat, fluffy flakes slowly making its way to the ground where it covers everything just enough to make the neighborhood look pristine and beautiful.  I love that first snow, watching it float lazily to the ground, going outside and hearing the silence of the snow fall.

 

I think I’d like the winter season and the snow a whole lot better if I could experience it from inside my home or on my front porch and not have to actually go out in it and risk life and limb to get to where I have to be on a daily basis.  Of course, I’d really like the winter season better if I could just convince my family members to move south with me.

Katherine