Powder

Last Friday night snow fell in Lexington.

It was as if the winter wind had swirled and whirled above the mighty mountain peaks of the west, lifting the soft powdery snow, grabbing tight and holding it in until it found its way to the rolling hills and wooden fences of Kentucky. Only then did release its grip and let it slowly fall down until all the world was white.

"The Greatest Snow on Earth" had found its way to me.

Our neighbor who was raised in Indiana and has lived in Lexington for over two decades said never in his life had he seen snow like this- powder.

To me, it felt like home. It was the stuff we lived for in my youth when a trip to the ski slopes came every other Saturday. It was the light fluffy stuff that you lost your skis in and sunk thigh deep as you waded through. It often covered the tops of the mountain, masking the bumps, moguls and dips. It swished when you turned. It sprayed and floated. It was bliss.

It was fun then and it was just as fun now.

Saturday we measured five inches of snow our driveway. The morning was filled with sledding, shoveling and hot chocolate. Basketball was canceled. We wore sweaters and sweats and happily sat on the heater vents, while warm soup bubbled on the stove. Later in the day the boys went out for a second round of sledding. Piles of wet socks, pants, gloves, hats, scarfs and coats were scattered in the garage, frozen solid by night fall.

It was the perfect winter day.
burying each other in the snowbowling in the snow with human bowling pins