This one is from 12/22/22. There is even more snow now but the driveway looks messy so I didn’t include a picture from today.

As a child, growing up in Southern California, I loved snow. The few times my parents took us to Lake Arrowhead or Big Bear were like magic for me. I couldn’t get enough of snow.

At age 41, Bernd and I moved to the higher elevations of Arizona. It snowed there. Not a lot where we were. But usually every winter we’d get at least one snow storm.

Sometimes it would snow as early as October and as late as April. Now and then we’d get a big storm that would last a couple of days and dump 16+ inches on us. I was in heaven.

Then at age 68, we moved to Wyoming. I anticipated a lot of snow. I was looking forward to a lot of snow.

Our first two winters here (this is our third) there was hardly any snow.  It was disappointing. We got what I called “tourist snow” when we lived in Arizona. And inch or so that would stick around for a week or less.

All the longtime residents said those first two winters were really mild. Still, it was colder than it was in Arizona and we thought mild was a misnomer despite that lack of significant snow.

The icicles are amazing too. This one is about three feet long.

Well. This winter is different. Way colder. When Bernd and I were out clearing the driveway after the previous storm, it was -20 degrees. We had to take breaks from pushing snow to go into the garage and unfreeze our hands over a space heater. The overnight lows were insane.

We’ve had another storm since that one, but it wasn’t as cold. It did, however snow constantly and lightly for two days and the official snow total from that one for our city is 10.2 inches. When we cleared the driveway yesterday, there was eight inches. So this morning when we cleared it before Bernd had to leave to go to work, there was only about two inches to move. We do it with snow pushers and snow shovels. Some of our neighbors have blowers. I’m not envious … really.

It’s a big driveway. You can easily park four cars on it and if you are careful, probably six. So the snow banks on either side of the drive are close to four feet high now.

Snow piled up on the deck rail. The deck surface is about two feet deep.

With all the snow from the three recent storms (and it being so cold that not much has melted), the backyard is buried in over two feet of snow. And you know what, I still love snow. I’m so thrilled to have had this. To have watched it coming down. To see it layering the landscape and piling on the rooftops. Coating the naked tree branches. And sticking in the pines and the junipers so that it’s just like a painting of the perfect winter scene. It’s still magical for me.

I think I will always love snow. If I live to be 90, I’m still going to be out there in it. Pushing it around. Reveling in the utter whiteness of it. Being amazed by the way it sparkles like glitter in the sunshine. Watching the air filled with ice crystals on the wind with the sun making it seem like we live in a snow globe.

Yup. I love snow.

Published by Dianne Lehmann

I'm a writer. But I'm also a wife and a mom to a couple of fur babies. You could call me a cook (but never a chef, I'm not that good) and provisioner as well. Laundress? Yeah. Probably. I design jewelry and I crochet. But mostly I love to write. I love words and how they sound. I love their meanings and origins. I love stringing them together. And of course, I love to read. Thinking about it just now, I realize that what I love most is life and the people around me with a special place set aside for my wonderful husband, our adorable dog and our inscrutable cat. It's the world and the people in it that fuels my writing. So thanks to you all for being the amazing beings that you are.

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