I never had a genuine snow day before I came to college. My school district prided itself on never delaying the power of education because of wind or weather. My childhood found me schlepping to school in spite of the whirling white flakes. So, you can imagine my girlish delight when it was declared that classes were canceled. Finally, my first real snow day.
This morning, a few feeble snowflakes drifted to the ground. By eleven, there were formidable gusts, and by noon tornadoes of snow swept through the quad. Pedestrians scrambled for shelter as their hoods whipped back from their faces. Hungry teens hefting cases of emergency soda and bags upon bags of chips slipped and slid, as they lunged for open doors. Clumsy snowball fights were really more against the gusts than each other, and snowmen scattered in the wind before they could be completed. It only took two hours for us to become the inhabitants of a great snow globe; routinely shaken by an invisible hand that coaxed the stinging snow to dart sideways, shoot upwards, and occasionally stall, motionless in midair.
Now, cozied up in the common room, my dorm-mates and I sip powdered hot chocolate and challenge each other to endless games of cards. Internet movies can be heard in the background and laughter abounds as the vanilla Dip-n-Dots collect outside our door.
