Brown Snow?

It snowed all night last night leaving a modest accumulation on our front walks.   When we bought our house here in Springhouse Village, I’d have sworn they told us that the sidewalks would be taken care by the association.   That appears to be a hit or miss proposition.  One rumor has it that if there are under two inches, it’s up to us seniors (Springhouse Village is for 55 and older folks and it looks to me like most of us are overqualified).   I didn’t measure but it looked like this morning’ fall was at least three … but by 11 am, no one had showed up to shovel, so I grabbed my trusty snow shovel and did it myself.    One shovel-full reveal a peculiar natural phenomenon – the snow was brownish but only on the surface.  Underneath it was the pristine white stuff I’ve come to love.  I called my wife, Muri, to come and look … she said that there was an article online about Brown Snow falling in Utah.

Snow

I grew up in New England, Connecticut to be precise.  When I was a child, snow was a delight, a chance to sled, have snowball fights, build snow forts and snowmen.   As I grew, it became a source of income as well as fun … there were usually neighbors willing to pay a few dollars to have their driveways shoveled.   The Christmas light reflected in the glittering snow are part of my best holiday memories.  It even played a role in the courtship of my wife, Muri.  We made up after our last break-up standing on the bridge on the University of Connecticut’s Mirror Lake.  During a snow storm.  Apparently that’s a good place to make a commitment because here we are, 54 years later.