Thursday

016


Jan 16, 2008 :: Like grits from the sky

Yes, those are snowflakes in my hair. Yes, I'm still in Atlanta.

Snow in Atlanta is an interesting thing. It's going to sound cliched, but the white stuff does strange things to Southerners. It's not unreasonable that it does, really. If the aurora borealis had suddenly shown up on the Ohio River Valley horizon when I was growing up, I'd have thought that pretty extraordinary too.

Anyway, under threat of the "white death" people around here get giddy; stand faces flushed and pointed skyward for long stretches; build fruitless, wet snowmush-people; drive more granny cautiously than any Atlantan ever would otherwise; throw sand out of pickup trucks over everything; and, my favorite, immediately empty the grocery stores of bread and milk.

I stood on the roof at work and looked at the familiar Buckhead skyline through a screen of pure winter glee.

It gets me that way too.

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