As a young boy in growing up in Alabama, snowfall was such a rarity that it was always a treat. Southern schools would cancel with a forecast of a single flake. The whole neighborhood of twelve-and-unders would meet at “the hill” with our best slippery bottomed shoes. One kid in the area had his own Flexible Flyer sled. We suffered in the barely freezing weather because our cotton clothes would quickly become wet in the snow. But even though we were freezing, the snow was usually quickly melting. In 1972, the year my family moved to Wisconsin, I could hardly stand waiting through the fall for the first snowfall of November and it was snow heaven when the winter whiteness didn’t melt right away. Now, more than 40 years later, I find I am much more patient waiting for that first snow. I like the November scene with or without snow. But when snow does arrive, I will certainly be okay with it
