It was what we called a Big Snow. I was in first grade, I think – the first of three times I lived in Virginia. It was the first location where I started to form real childhood memories (ones stored long term, anyway) and my first station in a state with actual winter climate.
Being in first grade I was pretty short. Not unnaturally so, more in a typical six year old sort of way, but short nonetheless. Which meant when the Big Snow was coming and they started talking about expected accumulation I basically started bouncing off the walls. Like every other kid on the block, but that was of no comfort to my parents as they endured the anticipation of a snow day.
I went to bed one night practically vibrating from the excitement of it all – a snow day off school! sledding! mittens! snowball fights! – and finally managed to drift off, praying fervently with every ounce of my being that frozen flakes would fall from the sky. And boy, did that weatherman come through. Big time.
When I walked out the door the next day (into a winter wonderland my dad had sweated through shoveling for hours) I was stunned into silence. Accumulation? There were no words to describe the wall of white surrounding me. The snow was taller than me. Do you know what it’s like to look up at a wall of snow? Well, for a first grader it’s exhilarating. Breathtaking. And an invitation to lose your freaking mind for the day.
I don’t remember any official numbers for the storm – exactly how many inches of snow accumulated in the front yard is one of those holes in my memory banks. But I recall with perfect clarity what it felt like to walk into a world of snow.
Visit Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday to check out her weekly blog event. It’s open to anyone who wants to participate, and there are always cool links to other blogs participating. This week’s prompt: accumulation.