We're hunkered down awaiting a big February snowstorm that promises to gift us over a foot of snow. We've already got piles of the white stuff stacked as high as my chest along our boulevard; we don't need more. What we need is a big thaw.
The layer of ice at the end of our driveway is five inches deep. It was created by the snow plow repeatedly pushing piles of packed snow into our drive. When spring arrives, the snow along the boulevard will begin to melt and a river will form under the snow pack. Gallons of run off will flow under the ice and snow toward downtown.
This refreeze meltdown happens every year. When the kids were young, they would play along the gutter, bundled up in rubber boots and rain jackets, they would somehow get completely drenched. Toy boats would float from our driveway to the next. One child at the start, the other at the finish. They were oblivious to the cold water and their giggles and splashes attracted the neighbor kids. They would stay out there all day if allowed to. Only fresh baked sugar cookies and hot cocoa could lure them away to warm up and dry off.
Kids have a way of finding joy in everything, including the things that cause strife for adults. To them, snow means sledding and winter fun. Spring rain brings trips to the beach, bugs and sprouting plants. They focus more on the changes than on the time each season takes to change. We could learn a lesson from them.
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