Snow snow snow

So today is the first snow day of the school year. It's March. It's also the first snow day since I've been at Longwood. I'm a junior. This is all very strange. But yesterday afternoon when I went outside with Raquel to play, I felt like a child again, even though I haven't experienced a snow day in probably about 5 years. I immediately got the urge to run, make a mess, build a snow man, make a snow angel, and start a snowball fight. What is it about snow that brings out the child in us?

I guess, for me, it goes back to the Blizzard of 1996. I lived in Lynchburg at the bottom of a big hill and I was out of school for what felt like an eternity. I remember walking down my driveway with my dad while the inches of snow went halfway up my calf and spilled into my purple snow boots. Snow days were pretty crazy around my house. My dad would usually have work, so he would have to drive to the top of our big hill the night before the snow to make sure he could get to work in the morning. After my sister and I woke up, we would hurriedly eat some breakfast and wait impatiently for Mom to put our snow clothes on. I could never zip up my coat because I would put my mittens on first. Half an hour and about 18 layers of clothes later, Betsy and I would make a mess of the beautiful snow that had fallen on our front yard. We were all about the sledding.

During that blizzard in 1996, we had the best sled run. It started in my next door neighbor's front yard and started out fast. It went all the way down their yard, across a ditch (filled with snow), across our driveway and sidewalk to the front door, and ended on the other side of our house. Every snowfall after that, I tried to recreate that run, but I never could again.

When I was ready to come inside (which was often, since I don't like the cold), my dependable mother was waiting at the door to strip me of my wet clothes, throw them in the dryer, and dutifully serve me hot chocolate while she started the hot bath. She knew an hour later, after my clothes were dry, I would be ready to go back out and she would have to do it all again.

When I was older and in a bigger neighborhood in Richmond, snow days were more social. In sixth grade, my mother dropped me off in her four-wheel-drive at the top of Jenny's hill. Jenny also lived on a hill, except the incline started at her front door and went down towards her street. We had a lot of fun that year. Making snow angels, starting snow ball fights with the cute 8th grader Scott, and sledding down Jenny's hill. It got a little less fun when I decided it would be a good idea to stand up on a sled and pretend to snow board. It didn't work out and I ended up with a cast on my arm for 6 weeks. Good thing the snow had mostly melted by then.

But the last time I really remember playing in the snow was junior year of high school, with a new group of friends that I didn't know would turn out to be my best friends for life (not to mention the twin with the glasses would be my first love). I looked through those pictures last night and I decided that's the first time I remember hanging out with that group of friends. Who knew that snow could not only magically cancel school, but form lifelong friendships?

Since snow doesn't happen to often, its easy to remember all of the times that I have enjoyed the cold, wet slush that cancels classes. It's snowing more now. I'm going to go play.