Having A Snow Day
A snow day has a way of pausing the busy backdrop of life. For a majority of those around me, winter is something to look forward to, for me not so much, I prefer the long, hot, lazy days of summer. But I find there are a few things I enjoy about winter. One is a snow day or three and watching the little community I live in come to life with laughing and big smiles as youth take to the hills with cardboard and sleds and even younger ones build their first snowman.
Living in an old farmhouse in the middle of the country offers a winter beauty those in cities only dream about. Long before the sun rises, the first flakes drift down like soft whispers and, more often than not, quickly turn to sleet or freezing rain, settling on fence posts, tin roofs, and the bare branches of pecan trees. By morning, as we peek out the curtains, a brilliant white landscape is revealed, broken up by mesquite, pecan trees and cattle all huddled by breaks safe from the arctic winds that drive a harsh winter storm in North Texas.
In a place where life usually moves with the steady rhythm of chores, school buses, and early‑morning coffee at the café or Hometown Coffee shop, a snow day feels like a gift. A break from busy basketball and school schedules, fence line repairs and painting that old barn. Laughter soon fills the air as kids in the city limits of our small-town tumble outside, bundled in mismatched scarves and gloves, leaving trails of tiny boot prints across untouched drifts, carefully navigating the icy streets. Even the family dog feels the excitement and somehow knows the snow day to come will present the gift of a day or two of companionship and playtime with kids young and old.
For ranchers and their families, the icy weather means something far different, it means endless hours of breaking ice, moving hay and countless chores that only compound due to the winter storm. Even with endless work, a rancher’s family will have many moments stolen in between work or while on a quick break of coffee and sandwiches or a pot of something hot with cornbread. As they glance at each other, they see strong pride filled in their weather-worn eyes, knowing that few have the privilege or the strength of will to be a rancher.
Inside the homes, kitchens come alive. Pots of chili simmer on stovetops, biscuits bake in old cast‑iron pans, and families linger around tables longer than usual. With nowhere to rush off to, conversations stretch, memories are relived and new memories formed. As the light of day fades, families gather in dens, kitchens and living rooms and relive the day’s activities with excitement and, for some, just a few quiet moments drinking something hot: coffee, cocoa or tea before turning in after a day made full by the company of friends and family.
This is Will B saying, may your snow days be long and your memories be fondly recalled.