The snow is melting. Everyday that brings the sun, takes away some of the fluffy white beauty that we Arkansans rarely get to see. As the snow passes, the ground gets muddier, cars get dirtier, and the last of falls leaves are soggy and sad looking.


I hate to tell you this, but the world is a better place when there is snow on the ground. Everyday for most of the past two weeks, I’ve walked outside and taken a deep breath, because when there is snow, everything smells clean. Maybe the ground being frozen is part of it, but who cares. Plus Conway stinks most of the time, and it’s the only time that I can go outside and smell something refreshing, instead of the usual swamp-stench.


Puppy paw-prints reigned supreme and it was cold, but wonderfully so. The chill wind woke me up every morning, and coffee just tasted that much better. Trees were covered and every home resembled the snow covered cabins of paintings, all you needed was a little bit of imagination.


I am a snow lover, and I know in Arkansas that doesn’t mean much. Most of us here like the hot humidity of July, but not me. I’m a winter weather kind of girl, and I’ll stay that way.


Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Out of the bosom of the Air,
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent and soft and slow
Descends the snow.

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