Snow Day
Whenever it snowed in Glenn Springs, usually once a year, Granddad would happily trek out across the lawn and take a few photographs. I’m sure he’d take in the scene, enjoying the quietness that comes with a fresh blanket of snow. He probably remembered hauling wood as a child, trying to keep the eight fireplaces in the drafty house burning during hard times. It’s hard for me to imagine him tossing snowballs at his brother Ralph, but his lifelong sense of humor and appreciation of a good prank doesn’t preclude such a pass time.
He’d later label his photos with a date and mail them to his grandchildren sweltering in South Florida, who’d pass them around and wish wistfully we were there.
Well, yesterday I was there, and I thought of my Grandfather.
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