First Snow

I'm waiting for the first snow of the season--they've promised us at least a dusting in the next 24 hours. Got a last pre-snow ride in with Wolfie today as the sky turned that leaden, nearly colorless shade that signals snow on its way. 

Unlike many people around here, I like snow, gentle and magical or wild and dangerous. Nothing like a lazy afternoon with big snowflakes coming down, a fire in the grate, and a good book. And I love blizzards, with their impending-doom, natural-disaster edge--Laura Ingalls Wilder's family hunkering down on the Plains, their house half-buried in snow, a howling maelstrom just outside the door. 

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I remember several years ago going to Gordon and JoeAnn's out on Eastern Point during a blizzard to watch a Patriots game. My car got stuck in the deep snowdrifts that had accumulated on the road to their house, so I wound up staying overnight. In the morning, we had breakfast in the kitchen of their old farmhouse before I set out alone, making my way home on borrowed skis.