Listen carefully and you’re sure to catch a bit of a story…

I don’t know if everyone’s got this sort of sixth sense, but in the morning before I even open my eyes, I can always tell if it has snowed.  Even as a kid- actually especially as a kid- I remember drifting to consciousness and immediately processing the fact that something is different about my surroundings. This half second of waking intrigue was always erased by an unceremonious zipping up of a window shade that yielded a scene of newly-blanketing snow. Quiet, peaceful, Robert Frost type imagery that could only mean one thing as a kid: Snow Day!

Of course, the simplicity of snow days have gone the way of innocence considering the fact that I haven’t lived in a proper winter climate for some time…but this morning I was pleasantly reassured that my useless faculty for snow detection remains intact. I guess this means I get to keep my New Englander card.

At precisely seven minutes after four o’clock, my brain flipped on and I could just tell that something was out of the ordinary. It was too quiet. Or maybe there was an added layer of sound that only comes with certain weather patterns. I have no idea why, but the thought “snow” registered before I even opened my eyes, and accordingly I hopped out of bed to gaze into the blue dark of morning. The kid in me smiled in reflexive delight as the adult portion got on with figuring how this elemental shift would impact my daily work routine.

It’s always best to get outside and experience snow before anyone else can beat you to it. When you’re little, it’s the snow plows that make you sad. When you’re an adult, the plows can Come On Down but you’d still love to partake in a few verses of unadulterated white elegy for your own personal edification. Snow’s life cycle is short-lived, and for me at least, witnessing the transition from delicate flurries to a fresh ground layer that will ultimately die as a hardened snow bank is a tale that never seems to get old. Especially when my eyes are shut.