Cold Surprise

The cities on the west side of the Cascade Mountains are not equipped for snow. Lots of rain, occasional windstorms, and sometimes ice storms come. Snow is rare around Seattle, and side streets stay covered in snow and ice, the major roads the priority.

It was a Snowmageddon, named by the weathercasters. So breathtakingly beautiful, the constant falling snow made verdant lawns and golf courses look like mounds of cotton and turned Fir tree branches to white lace. The heavy, wet snow fell all night, and residents awoke to a rare winter wonderland.

“Let’s go for a ride!” We drove slowly on the slick roads in the four-wheel Ram, heading to a lake via a gravel road. Of course, the lake was not frozen; this was a weather event for our area, but not a month-long freezing. The gravel was invisible under seven inches of snow.

Ducks floated in the dark water, and the woods were silent. No birds were singing as our tires crunched the gravel. We crept along the narrow road, occasionally opening a window to feel the flakes touch our palms.

The dogs inside the canopy ran side to side and barked; they only played in snow if we took them to the mountains. When we opened the back, they leaped into the snow, racing each other, disappearing in the snow blizzard.

Sneakily, I packed a snowball and slid it down my Floridian partner’s back, only to be met with a snow-packed mitten full in my face.