Hearing about the major snowstorms in parts of the country made me think about something very unusual that happened back in 1973. It snowed in my hometown of Macon in central Georgia. Not a dusting of snow, either, but enough to make watching dachshunds a spectator event (and we had two of them -- Dolly and Missy -- this was before the naming of dogs became so important). We had to make a path for them just so they wouldn't get lost in the snow drifts.
I can't remember if the snowfall was predicted, was worse than it was supposed to be or nobody saw it coming but I do know it took everybody off-guard (which snow around there -- or here -- does, anyway). I was 13 at the time, in the 8th grade -- and what I do remember is that we actually had to make up snow days on Saturdays. We grumbled mightily but I think most of us thought it was worth it.
It was like living in another world -- though it stopped snowing, it was days before it melted. For those who are used to seeing snow every year, our fascination with the stuff is probably quite amusing. For us, it was enough to make the most sane person become unhinged.
I'm sure I took photos back then -- probably with one of those old Kodak cameras -- but where they are, I have no idea. But I still clearly remember walking in a winter wonderland in a place where such things just don't happen very often. In my memory, that was a one-time experience.
There's a part of me which wishes something like that would happen again in these parts -- but, only if I have plenty of food in the house, the electricity stays on and I don't have to go anywhere. A tall order, to be sure.
I think back on that time with fond memories, though the adults back then probably remember it quite differently. It's too bad we tend to lose our wonder as we get older.
And that's a good a reason as any to get a dachshund.
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When you are offended at any man's fault, turn to yourself and study your own failings. Then you will forget your anger...Epictetus