We don’t have too many kids under the age of 12 in my neighborhood. So, when the snow came last Saturday, there was the expected delight and frolicking outside, but mostly it was quiet and calm. I think every now and then Mother Nature just enjoys making us stop and wonder at how powerful or how peaceful she can be. Judging from the traffic on the highway, or rather the lack of it, people still respect the fact that she is in charge when she chooses to be. Watching the choreography of dancing snow and whirling wind, it’s hard to be anything but pensive. The flakes of infinite shape and size drift and twirl toward a landing, and it’s surprising how quickly your yard assumes the look of a Currier and Ives engraving underneath the steel gray sky and a few inches of fresh snow. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it settles like a blanket over all the worries, disappointments and concerns of this small piece of the world, at least for a little while, and you remember how very lucky you are to be a part of it.
No matter who you are or how it has treated you, life can be a rich, amazing and at times, painful adventure. Every good or bad experience is an entry in the scrapbook titled ‘you’. It belongs to you and stays with you as long as you hold its place. Whenever snow falls, I’m always reminded of the snowy days on the campus at UGA and its notorious topography. Anyone who remembers walking to a first period class in the bone-chilling days of winter quarter can attest to the challenge of ‘scaling' those unforgiving hills that roll across the 600 acres of the main campus. Winters in Athens would inevitably include ice and snow events and on those days, the campus cafeteria would mysteriously suffer serious losses of food trays. It was a tradition. Students would cut classes and borrow food trays to use as ‘mini sleds’ and spend the rest of the day careening down the slopes on campus. Academics were all but forgotten as long as those hills were slick with snow and ice. Food trays, of course, could only carry one person, so naturally the resourceful students found other ways of mastering the downhill.
The most original method I ever saw was when the hood was removed from a student’s 1962 Rambler and flipped over to become a super sled that could carry 6 people down the hills in style with no steering and no brakes. Naturally, most of the passengers would always be female. Thankfully, no serious injuries ever resulted. I can’t exactly say the same thing for one daredevil who attempted to tame the hills in a trash can. It was just one of those days and one of those crazy things college students feel it is their duty to do, and it will forever be in my memory. My scrapbook should probably include more academic related memories. Maybe I will recount some of those in the future. (if I can dig deep enough into the vault to resurrect them)
In the meantime, the snow continues to fall and redecorate the trees and shrubbery in the neighborhood. It will leave soon enough but not without adding another image to hold on to. I hope you had a chance to enjoy this infrequent visit from Mother Nature and maybe share a memory and a chuckle from the pages of your own scrapbook.
