It rained last Sunday night, and, brrr, it was freezing. I was tired from walking that day and I slept like a log.
Next morning I woke up rather late, but refreshed. I went down to the kitchen and had breakfast; then back upstairs to make my rumpled bed. I walked in the bedroom and the curtains were already pulled to let the sun in. I looked out to see if there's more rain. There was none, but the top of the hill beyond was covered with snow. I gasped, "Whoooaaa!"
"Come, come," I said excitedly to my husband as I strutted to the room next to the bedroom where he was. "There's snow out there!" I was like a kid seeing snow for the first time. He came in big strides and with a glow in his face looked out beyond to the snow covered hilltop. "Oh, wow. Take pictures of it," he murmured.
Late last year there was fire right on that hill and beyond. It was a scary sight. All through that night, I kept getting up to see if the fire would come down from the hill. It did not. The firefighters were keeping watch and were ready to douse it, if it got out of control.
This was not the first time we had snow here in our town. Sometime back in the late 80's we had a flurry of the white stuff right here in our town. My backyard, front yard and all over our neighborhood was covered with snow. It didn't last long, though. By noon time it had melted. The neighborhood kids had fun. School was closed due to snow. Rarely does this happen and it was the news of the day. I called the office to let them know I couldn't come to work. Vehicles here are not equipped with snow tires and it's dangerous driving in slick roads.
This time, however, we didn't have a lot. Mother Nature gave us a sprinkling of it on the hill, but it was a sight to behold.