When did it start, that dreaded forecast that snow might be on the way? Was it Monday? Tuesday? Frankly, I’m not sure when, but, interestingly, when it did start the momentum built like a snowball rolling down John’s Mountain.

“Did you hear, it’s going to snow?” a lady asked me in the grocery store.

“I did hear,” I said.

“We’re stocking up,” she informed me. “They say this is going to be a big one. I hope our pipes don’t freeze.”

I made some encouraging comment and headed to the checkout lane. I scanned my items and then my card, put it back in the wallet, pocketed the receipt loaded my purchases and pushed the cart out the door. The air was cooler than when I entered, it seemed. The sky was covered by those dark gray clouds that always seem prelude to coming snow.

At the house I placed the items in the pantry, cabinets and refrigerator. The woman’s concern seemed now to haunt me. I began to question if I had bought enough. That thought was filed as irrelevant for an accumulation of Georgia snow had never stopped me from my appointed rounds before.

My mind whet back to the winter of 1960 when this North Georgian really got stranded by a snow storm! Now that was a real blizzard by our standards. I was in Dahlonega when that snow arrived. It cut off all the roads to the town, in and out. It piled up and up and the air got colder and colder. We didn’t let it get us down, however. We did what any group of college age kids would do. We removed the hood of a 1945 Ford, hauled it up to the top of Crown Mountain, hopped in and rode it down. I can still see those saplings being knocked over now. What a ride!

The next day I took Charlie Brown, my faithful canine companion, down to Adairsville where he and I took our daily trek around the outskirts of the Quik Trip. The air was definitely getting colder; frigid might be a better word. The sky was getting darker. By the time the walk ended my finger tips and ears were feeling the pain. With Charlie Brown back in the car, I headed inside for my daily treat of cappuccino.

Coming snow or no coming snow, there was a sermon to prepare. I settled in. Taking a break I noticed on Facebook a friend in Adairsville was claiming to have seen the first snowflake. Stepping outside I saw some, too. The adventure had begun. The schools were closed and everyone settled for the winter’s blast.

I thought of my little brother who until recently lived in Alaska. Now there they know about snow. Somewhere in my files there’s a newspaper clipping of my U. S. Fish and Wildlife Ranger brother sliding on his belly across an ice-over pond to rescue some duck. I remembered my sister-in-law telling me of their first Alaskan snow. She was preparing breakfast when she saw an animal looking in her kitchen window. It was their dog lying on the snow accumulation of the night before.

Our little snow storm reminded me of my brother in Alaska. He often laughed at our excessive caution whenever the flakes start falling. He used to laugh at us. He doesn’t laugh now. He left Alaska last year and moved back to Georgia.


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