We knew when we agreed to move here that we were risking forsaking childhood memories of snow. Further east, lower elevation, and less mountainous. All things working against the gift of mighty snowstorms. We knew there were years, sometimes seasons of years, where this new place went without snow at all.
I bought the gear anyway. I always have, every year in new sizes. Always a gamble whether it would go unused.
Insulated boots to keep toes warm. Rugged snow bibs (not just pants where the snow surprises you going down your backside). Special gloves that go up to your elbows so they don’t come loose while you play. Thermal under layers both thin and warm. I never want them to know the feeling of frozen AND wet.
The risk has paid off. Two snowstorms last year each gave us more than we’d ever seen in Tennessee. And now, last Saturday morning we awoke to a Narnian wonderland.
This post is part of a collaborative photography project with 14 other artists. Visit the group here. Tomorrow I'll share sunset of this snowstorm gift.
The Boy came down with a mysterious illness Friday evening that only shares the symptom of a fever. Most unfortunately he just didn't feel well when we went out to play and head in early ahead of all of us.