Archived Story

No days like snow days

Published 11:43am Tuesday, February 12, 2013

I want snow.

There are only 36 days left until spring officially begins, and I have yet to see those beautiful white ice crystals accumulating outside my window.

Winter is far from being my favorite season.

I don’t like being cold.

I don’t like seeing the sun set at 4:30 in the afternoon.

I don’t like having to set aside all outdoor activities.

And unfortunately, the one thing that makes winter worthwhile is the one thing that doesn’t often happen in the South – snow.

Growing up in Tennessee, snow was like magic. It meant sledding, snowmen, snow angels and – most importantly – no school.

Although Tennessee doesn’t fare much better than Alabama when it comes to snowfall, we could usually count on a couple of good snow days per year.

I remember watching the snow fall in the light from a streetlamp, dragging my heels to bed and praying that I would wake up to find school was cancelled.

As I have gotten older … snow is still like magic.

One snowy Sunday my freshman year of college was dedicated to a snowball fight and a snowman we named Louie.

My college friends and I watched the skies, just like I did as a child, desperately hoping for enough snowflakes to warrant the cancellation of classes.

Everyone has different snow day traditions.  I have a friend who makes snow cream faithfully.

Some people like a nice snowy hike through woods.

When I was a sophomore in college, I spent a snow day behind my apartment with my camera and my tripod, shooting pictures and basking in the cold silence.

Tromping through the cold and wet when I was already fighting back illness probably wasn’t a great idea.

But in that moment, I felt perfectly happy.

It was an afternoon I will never forget.

I really just want one good snow per year. I’m not asking for a blizzard or multiple feet of accumulation.

Just a nice white blanket.

Many of the snows that I can remember have come in February or March, so I’m not giving up hope yet.

But from my desk I can hear the water sloshing around on Cherokee Road as cars pass by, and considering how warm this winter has been – my pea coat and trench coat have made only brief appearances – I have my doubts.

So I guess I’ll just keep my rain jacket and umbrella handy.

James is a staff writer for The Outlook.