So if you have been hiding under a rock in an undisclosed tropical location, A) I hate you, and B) you may have missed the news that it’s winter. You cannot miss it in Atlanta, which is currently paralyzed by 4 inches of snow and ice. It looks wonderful, pristine and fluffy, until you realize you are out of beer and the football game is on, and it takes an hour to go to the corner store a mile away.
Cars are skiing across the highway and people are sledding down the hills with broken-down cardboard boxes as we take in the strangeness; not of snow (it usually snows here once or twice a year) but of snow that stays. Usually in Atlanta it snows about a quarter of an inch and then melts within 8 hours, but the friendly weatherman assures us that this may stick for a WEEK. He’s enjoying his moment in the sun, I think – no pun intended – and is determined to stretch it out.
We went out for a walk yesterday and took some pictures just in case Friendly Weatherman is wrong, and I got this photo of a neighbor’s yard. There’s something very romantic about the magnolia tree covered in snow – it’s my favorite tree, so very emblematic of the south, all iced tea and linen dresses and fanning yourself on the porch – so to see it dressed up in winter wear is always something of a surprise. The tire swing seems to long for winter to pass and these silly sleds and snowballs go away, so the children will come play on it again. Until then it whispers to the magnolia, and they wait patiently for spring.