Snow in Nashville
When I came to visit Nashville almost three years ago — I had just finished college and was on my "spring break" in March — it snowed. In March. It wasn't a heavy snow by any means. It was just fluff that melted as soon as it hit the ground. But it was snow.
And coming from Los Angeles where it was sunny, and spring was coming, I just thought that if some place still had snow, then it must snow even more in the winter time. I concluded that Nashville must have heavy snow in their winters.
Then I moved here.
I told everyone that I wanted four seasons. That included real deal, shoveling snow, seasons. I was so excited to finally have a white snowy winter. And then everyone, I mean everyone that lived here, told me that "in Nashville, it doesn't really snow. It just gets icy."
What do you mean it doesn't snow?? I saw snow three years ago in March.
"Well sometimes it's a light snow that melts as it hits the ground, but it's never really heavy snow. It doesn't stick."
Every time I had this conversation, I felt slightly bummed out. But in the back of my mind, I honestly just didn't believe them. Which is why I probably had the same conversation so many times.
My hope was lifted when Lizzie from the farm said that the persimmon seed revealed an intense snow will fall winter by showing a spoon shape (persimmon seeds can predict weather, didn't you know?).
And then December came. Winter came. And it was sunny. Sometimes cold. But mostly mild and sunny.
My hopes started becoming less.
Coming back from Los Angeles and Utah, I still felt like there was a chance. And then...
Hallelujah. It happened.
I was there with my roommate Annemarie when she got the phone call that school would be cancelled the next day. SNOW WAS COMING.
I woke up and opened my blinds. It was like Christmas morning was here again. My joy was overwhelming. I think it was partly because it wasn't expected. So it was even more special that I could be here for this rare sort of winter. All the snow had settled overnight on the streets, the houses, the cars, the mailboxes, the lawns, the trees, the wires. And it was still falling.
I know it's not a lot of people's dream come true to have snow, but it was mine. And it came true in a big way.
The entire weekend was a stay-in-the-house, let's have hot chocolate, watch American Idol, and have a roommate bonding experience we hadn't had in the four months I've lived here.
We went outside as the sun was setting one night, deciding that it was time to get geared up and out of the house and in the snow. We embraced our backyard, with deep enough snow to fall into and make a snow angel. We had an impromptu snowball fight — at one point prepping snowballs to throw at my roommate Janna when she came out of the house, but we weren't sneaky enough and she blindsided us from another angle.
Bekah found a surfboard randomly in our basement, so we gathered that, a laundry basket, a cardboard box, and some bubble wrap to go sledding with.
There is a beautiful and pure type of peace that comes from walking in the middle of a snowed street with no noise distractions or cars approaching. We met a couple neighbors that I've never seen before because we were taking the time. We weren't in our little bubbles going from one place to the next.
We found a steady, snow and ice covered, hill and started our little experiment.
The laundry basket had high hopes, but failed to impress or take us anywhere. And the cardboard box and bubble wrap did not work out. Surfboard was slick and awesome for sledding after taking off the fins. Winner of best sled of the night.
We walked back to the house after many runs, feeling exhausted but exhilarated. Before going back inside, I laid in the snow on the corner and just watched as it continued to fall from the sky, ever so gently, landing next to me, on me. In that moment, there was no place I'd rather be.