TIFTON — By the time you get your Wednesday morning paper, we’ll have the answer to the one question everyone’s asking this week: Will it snow?
It’s funny to me how excited we southern folk get about snow. Especially because the variety we get quickly turns to a mushy mess, and then becomes dangerous when it refreezes. It’s more of a nuisance than anything else.
But let that first flake fly, and the adults all run to the store for bread and milk, and the kids start searching for things to slide down a hill on.
I remember the first significant snowfall of my childhood. It was 1973, and there was 16 inches of that beautiful, white stuff. It was everywhere. To me, it seemed the whole world had become a wintry fairyland. There were icicles on everything, and everything was covered in gorgeous snow. My brother and I couldn’t wait to get outside in it and build a snow man. We have a photo of my brother, my dad and myself standing next to our snowman, which was taller than me. We named him Dilbert. And I was proudly wielding an 8-inch icicle I plucked from a nearby tree.
It was awesome. And it lasted for several days.
I moved to Oregon when I was 29, and I lived there for a few years. I had never lived in the mountains (To clarify, I grew up in North Georgia, and I used to think those were mountains. By comparison,they are not). I lived in Bend, a city right at the base of the Cascade Mountain range. It’s beautiful there. And there’s snow up on the mountains in July.
The first winter there, we had 1 to 2 feet of snow a night. Wrap your brain around that. Every night.