Snow in Virginia

Just when the kids were moaning about never being able to make a snowman the snow came to Virginia. Then a week later it returned. Of course south east Virginia could not cope. The schools have been closed for the best part of two weeks. The promises of snow plows ring as empty as the clang of shovels on the sidewalk.

For a while I was fooled by the snowmaggedon thing. To venture out would be to risk sudden death. By the time I reached the end of the street I would be like a soldier in the Grande Armee on its bedraggled retreat from Moscow, looking for horse flesh or worse.

Oddly enough after finally putting on my boots after two days of cabin fever, I made it to the store at the end of the street and it was open, even if the wine was unbearably sweet. By Friday I was driving on the slippery streets which were not so bad. It suddenly occurred to me that I had trampled through much snow back in those half forgotten days on the ski slopes and I had not lost any limbs to frost bite.

I have been on wooded paths edged with snow and relished the air as clear and clean as a bell. The words of Robert Frost came back to me and made me think of those places.

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.