As the snow softly falls outside, Facebook posts from friends pop up left, right, and center. “It’s snowing!” “Please, more!” “Tons of snow out here!” And so on. Shortly on the heels of those exclamations come responding posts and comments from The Haters. “Come on! You guys don’t know what real snow is!” “Seriously?! You know it’s not even going to stick!” “Back in whatevermyfavoritesnowyplace, we had snow 10 feet deep! Get a life!”
These comments really bug me. They shouldn’t. People can think and say whatever they’d like. And I acknowledge that here in the Greater Portland Metropolitan area, we do get rather worked up over any amount of the white stuff. But why not?
I love living where we hoot, holler, ooh and ahh every time the persistent rain changes to fat flakes. I love that we aren’t so hardened by endless winters of endless snow that we are able to appreciate the novelty of its appearance each and every single time. We know it won’t last long – perhaps a few minutes, hours, or – maybe! – a day.
And so we try to capture it while we can. We bundle up the kids and send them racing outside to roll snowballs and make snow angels in the dusting on our lawns. We cancel school, stores, practice, outings and appointments. We hunker down in our snug homes with our families gathered near to bask in the beauty, the silence, the wonder that is a snowy day/afternoon/night. We quietly revel in the forced opportunity to take a break from our busy lives and just appreciate something that doesn’t happen often. And we wait impatiently for the next time it comes around.
So let us have our excitement. Yes, it’s silly. But it doesn’t hurt you to indulge our inner child for a few hours each year, does it?
Excuse me – I need to go throw a mushy slushball.