Funny, I don't remember it being so far to the dirt.
I remember thinking that to myself as I just took momentary leave of my senses during last week’s snow.
It all started when the National Weather Service announced my home county, Appling, along with my work county, Pierce, were both under a winter storm warning. What!? You've got to be kidding me, I said to myself.
I was both amused and excited at the prospect. I don't believe I have ever witnessed that in my lifetime— other than maybe the 2018 and 1989 snows.
I tried to contain my excitement, but when the National Weather Service started having briefings with local emergency managers, I knew this was the real deal, and being a Deal, I would know real.
And, so the watch for the Great Blizzard of 2025 was on.
It started as light, fluffy flakes at my house at Long Branch in Appling County at about 7 p.m. on the evening of Tuesday, January 21.
I put on every layer of clothing I had to brave the biting South Georgia cold. Did I look like the Michelin man? Yes. Was I warm? No.
By the time I got outside a thick, fluffy layer of snow was beginning to coat the surface of my car and the grass.
The sound—like a shimmer, like a whisper — is in my mind what the brush of angels wings must sound like.
I stayed outside for long periods of time during the snow, but eventually a light freezing rain began falling and erased it.
About three hours later, sleet pellets and snow started coming down in a 'downpour'—I'm not sure what the correct word is. There were about three-four inches—the most in my lifetime.
By the next morning, my world and your world, too, were covered with a thorough blanket of pristine, white ivory.
I loved it. I drove slowly down the dirt roads around home — some of which had been undisturbed prior to my journey. I ventured to the community center, to my former home church, to my Daddy's tomb, all around the farm and back again. I was especially cautious— remembering to drive slow, not brake suddenly and to steer in the direction of a slide. The trip was uneventful, until I got back in my driveway—25 feet from my carport. The wheels began spinning. I was not bogged down. The wheels were on the surface of the snow. I could not go forward. I could not go back. I dragged limbs downed by Hurricane Helene in September from under the snow pack and dragged them to put them under the wheels for leverage. Did I just say snow pack? I can't believe I said that. I managed to get safely back to the carport.
Note to self: Do not drive in snow. Mama and I made snow cream with the snow. Grandma Deal had a recipe for it, but we could not find it. Perhaps she kept it in her head. It was good snow cream, but it is intense and hard on the gums and teeth—with the polar sensation. It would be excellent on hot August days when I've been mowing for three hours—but, alas, it won't last that long.
I built a snow man using a bucket, two nails, a Coke bottle cap and my John Deere hat. Daddy would have approved.
Mama would not come outside. It's too cold she said. She reminded me of Grandma Deal. During such weather, Grandma would say “It’s not fittin’ to be outside, so I’m gonna go inside and ‘wrop’ up.”
I decided to see if I could create a snow angel in the snowscape.
That's when it became a long way to the ground. But, I got there. And waving my arms and legs back and forth, I made the image in the snow.
Now, how to get up? It was an interesting process—sort of like untangling a Sasquatch if he got stuck under a beached whale. Did I just say that? And snow pack, too?
Oh, mercy. I made it back up in one piece. I'm not sore, but I split my jeans. Thankfully, I was wearing layers.
Maybe an angel was looking out for me and not just the one in the snow. The angel helped me get back up again.
And thank the Lord for giving us a snow day. I’m going in to “wrop” up now.
