Thoughts On A Snowfall

Snowfall in the woods behind my home

When I woke this morning, I noticed a slight chill inside my Casita. It wasn't cold, just a bit cooler than usual for January. It felt good to pull my sleeping bag a bit more tightly around my shoulders. I could feel Max snuggled against my back. After a bit, Max indicated that perhaps it would be a good idea for me to crawl out of bed and open the door so he could go outside. I was surprised when I glanced through the window and saw that the ground was covered with a thin layer of snow!

Even though I am an old man by most folks' standards, my emotions are still rooted in my boyhood days. Growing up in northern Alabama, "snow" has always been something of a romantic novelty. Although I have never experienced a "White Christmas", in my imagination, Christmas, no matter how many gifts were beneath the tree, was not quite as exciting as it would have been with a deep layer of snow outside. We did have snow now and again, but it was usually a thin layer that would melt away before the day had finished. When we did have snow of any significance at all, it meant that school would be closed. Therefore the equation that became firmly fixed in my mind was: Snow = Holiday! To this day that is my emotional response whenever it begins to snow.

I do remember one very significant snowfall while I was growing up. I do not recall the year, but it must have been during my 8th or 9th-grade year. The snow accumulated to at least half-foot depths and possibly more. We lived at the foot of Montesano Mountain and not more than a couple of miles away from our house, there was Fagan's Hollow. The Hollow was a wonderful and exciting place for a young boy. In those days, the Hollow was a place a boy could go and experience what it must have been like when Daniel Boone and David Crockett roamed free in the American wilderness. I put on my parka, called my dog, Whitey, and we headed for the Hollow.

The snow was still falling by the time Whitey and I reached the Hollow. It was the wonderland that I had only seen before in my imagination. The snow was more than ankle deep and had drifted in some places so that it reached to my knees. Whitey jumped and bounded through the snow as if he were born to it. 

I began to feel that it was a sacrilege to leave footprints in such a beautiful setting. The cedar trees along the trail bowed in reverence beneath their cloak of pure white snow. The beauty of the place overwhelmed me! For a while, I lay on my back in the snow and simply took in the silence and beauty of the place. Even now I can close my eyes and feel the reverence that I felt on that day!