Trales
There’s nothing like a snowy day.
Looking out the window at the pure white blanket gives me a thrill I had forgotten. As adults, we forget the unrestrained fun that follows after a few inches of snow.
Anthony was happy to remind me of all that.
Forecasters had been talking about it for days, and expectations were high. Anthony watched the TV news with me, listening intently to the upcoming winter storm, its timing, and the amount of snow expected.
“Do you think you can play outside with it?” he asked me.
This was a welcome change from the winter of 2024. We didn’t have a chance to go outside and play in the cold, except for a day of muddy, wet snow on Saturday morning. You don’t have to go sledding down the local hills or having snow forts or snowball fights.
Anthony lamented the lack of snow and a warmer-than-usual winter. His sleek red sled and new snowman-themed inflatable tube sat unused in the garage. Annoyingly, the only wintry precipitation that year fell just as we were about to leave for a long weekend in Ohio, resulting in a postponed trip and more than a little pout. It has become.
But this winter felt different. Frozen powder was already scattered around the yard, with nearly an inch of it falling in December. A heavy snowstorm is approaching. We felt it in our bones.
Those hopes became reality in January with the prediction of a major winter storm hitting central Indiana. The impact ranged from a few inches to more than 10 inches. A trip to the grocery store to pick up a few essential items for the weekend turned out to be a mistake as the aisles were filled with hoarders. What if it snowed for months at a time?
The timing of the storm was also strange. The snow was expected to start Sunday and gradually accumulate during the day, reaching its peak by night. My wife and I were already scheduled to work from home, but Anthony was still on winter break from school, so there was no chance of snow.
Still, we watched closely as the first pieces fell from outside the window. A few white snowflakes fell in the early afternoon and continued until a steady curtain of snowflakes fell.
Anthony went to bed confident that in the morning he would be wading through knee-high snowdrifts.
And he wasn’t far off.
Monday morning we woke up to a white blanket. Eight inches of powder snow turned it into a winter wonderland, and Anthony gasped when he looked outside.
“It looks like Alaska!” he exclaimed.
He was itching to go outside and play, so when I got off work, we all got together to check on him. I unearthed his winter boots, waterproof snow pants, gloves, hat, winter coat, etc. for the cold weather. After properly packing my things, I set out.
Anthony was so excited that he tried to run. He was wearing cold-weather gear, and after taking just a few steps he fell face-first into a snowdrift.
His hysterical laughter belied how happy he was.
After I finished shoveling the snow from the driveway, I got right into the game. Anthony wanted nothing more than a snowball fight, so we split into teams (popsicle for him, polar bear for me) and set up a base of operations on opposite sides of the yard. I probably hit him a few more times than he did me, but as we laughed and screamed, there was no doubt that we were both winners.
We built a bobsled-like track in the snow, first packed the sled with snow, then pushed Anthony down the slope in our backyard. He crashed more times than he completed the track, but even when he fell, he was never happy.
After playing for about an hour, it was time to go back inside. We were cold, wet, tired, but happy.
We’re still taking advantage of the snow for the rest of the week, but nothing compares to the first patch of pristine white we found Monday afternoon.
Now we’re just waiting for the next storm to arrive. The sled is ready, the boots are off, and Popsicle and Polar Bear are ready for round two.
Ryan Torales is a senior reporter and columnist for the Daily Journal. Send comments to (email protected).
