Snow Day 2025

The meteorologists had been warning us all week, their voices growing more confident with each passing day as they stood before color-coded maps of the state. A winter storm was headed our way, bringing snow and ice to Northwest Georgia. Like most Southerners facing winter weather, we sprang into action: stocking up on extra food, charging all our electronic devices, and making sure our flashlights and lanterns had fresh batteries. We even stacked firewood and fat lighter by the fireplace, ready to provide warmth if the power failed.

We woke on Friday morning to snow falling from the sky. There’s something magical about throwing open the blinds to discover a world transformed into white on white. It’s surreal, really — the familiar landscape of our woods draped in a pristine blanket of snow. Once a year is enough for me—enough to appreciate nature’s artistry without enduring the prolonged challenges that come with harsh winters like the ones up north.

As I watched the snow fall last Friday, my mind was transported back to my childhood in Middle Georgia. I remembered the anticipation that built whenever the weather folks on television mentioned even the slightest chance of snow. Those nights were filled with prayers for school cancellations, my young heart beating with hope as I’d turn on the flood lights so I could search the dark skies for falling flakes. We didn’t get much snow in Middle Georgia, but when we did, it was memorable. First and foremost, there was no school. Secondly, my siblings and I (and a small band of neighborhood kids) always tried to build a snowman — an act of futility given the fact that our snowfalls were usually only one or two inches in accumulation.

Back then, we didn’t have performance winter wear — no polar fleece or merino wool. All we knew to do was layer up — putting on multiple shirts and coats and two pairs of socks underneath our sneakers —and make the best of it. Our next door neighbor showed us how to use bread wrappers to keep our feet dry, nothing short of genius. Still, my fingers throbbed from the cold. My DNA isn’t made for extreme cold weather. I’m a sunshine girl.

Lastly, many Southerners don’t know how to drive on snowy, icy roads, and I have a clear memory of watching cars slide off the road on a hill on Moody Road, near our home.

During last week’s wintry event, my husband and I were fortunate. While temperatures outside dipped between the 20s and 30s, our power remained steady. We stayed warm and cozy indoors, warming our souls by looking out the windows of the house while eating homemade beefvegetable stew and sipping mugs of hot chocolate crowned with bobbing marshmallows. As evening settled in, we nestled into the couch for some Netflix — all the while saying little prayers that the lights would stay on, and thankfully, they did.

Aside from the beauty of it all, more joy came from watching the birds peck around for seeds near our feeders and our dog, Cali, experiencing the snow for the first time in five or so years. She was absolutely ecstatic, bounding through the white stuff with unbridled enthusiasm. She’d jump and dig, pause to let the icy wind ruffle her fur, then take off again in a burst of pure happiness. I tried to take a photo of snow and ice clinging to her furry face, but she wouldn’t cooperate with me.

The snow didn’t stick around long this time. By yesterday, most of it had melted away, leaving only scattered patches visible from my office window. But that’s part of what makes snow days special here in the South — their rarity. They transform our world for a brief moment, then slip away leaving us with memories of a winter’s day.

Looking back, it was exactly what a snow day should be — a peaceful pause in our routine, a chance to slow down and appreciate the beauty of nature, and an opportunity to indulge in simple pleasures like hot chocolate, warm stew, and each other. And while I’m grateful for the experience, I’m equally grateful for the folks at our EMC, our reliable power grid, and the knowledge that spring isn’t too far away. In no time at all, it will be gardening season again y’all. Hallelujah!