“What are we doing on an airplane leaving Tampa, north for Washington just when the weather is getting good again in Florida?” I asked my son, David.”

“Because we have tickets for today,” he said.

”But it’s a national holiday. Have we no respect for the groundhog? It’s his day. No matter, he no doubt went back into his den hours ago. He couldn’t have missed seeing his shadow.”

“Yeah, six more weeks of winter, he says.”

When we reached Dulles Airport a light snow was falling, undisturbed by any breeze. Katyna, who had met us at the airport, had a light but satisfying meal prepared for a couple of hungry travelers.

Morning broke to a scene washed of color by the night’s delicate brushing of pure white. Every twig, every branch on tree or shrub showed its natural dark gray, but topped with a layer of white frosting. It was a fantasyland of white with only black outlines penciled in. The rare beauty of the scene made one hesitant to shovel the snow from the sidewalks. And so the day passed as an otherwise ordinary day. The snow squall was over and people went on with their business.

David began checking sources where he might find information about musical events in his area of northern Virginia or Washington. He found events for most every night for the whole week ahead. Looked as if we would not lack for things to look forward to. We went to the first on his list, a flute and harp duo, an unusual combination. The young women presented a varied program, which we enjoyed from our front row seats.

We were fortunate to have chosen the first opportunity to go to a concert, because the radio was warning of a snowstorm to deliver nine to sixteen inches of the white stuff. It started about noon the next day and it looked like a repeat of the snow with which we had been greeted at the airport, and with no sign of stopping. Several times during the evening David and his neighbors could be heard shoveling snow from their sidewalks. By morning it lay about two feet deep. Road crews working through the night were still busy trying to keep the main roads open. Snowfall continued most of the day, adding another few inches before finally petering out. People whom David had invited found the roads too hazardous and postponed their visits. The next day, Superbowl Sunday, David fetched an old high school friend who lives nearby and we watched the Saints win their game over the Colts. During the next couple of days, when the roads were a bit more passable, son Stephen and grandsons Shawn and Andre came by to see us. 

Just when I thought we had enough snow to last the rest of the winter, and it looked as if the airports would reopen in time for my flight home, the radio warned of a second blast that would bring us another nine inches. And so it did, on the day before I was to leave for home. Needless to say, my flight was cancelled and I was stranded for three more days. I was glad to have such a good host as David to look after me.

I spent most of the snowbound time reading recorded books or listening to music or the radio, and writing a class assignment. Meanwhile local TV stations did their weird thing of sending some poor junior reporter out in the foul weather to show that we have foul weather such as precipitation and wind. I frequently took note of the scene developing just outside the front window in a little patio where sat a round table and chairs, backed by a small tree. As the snow fell I watched the layer cake on the table, always fully iced, grow from a single layer to perhaps seven layers, almost as high as its width. It seemed to only need a few candles to complete the picture.

How in the world did I get myself into the all time record snowstorm of the area? Maybe I’m too agreeable. David went to Florida to help out his sister, Susanna, while her husband, Dick, traveled in Europe. David has ideas that nobody else would think of. Why not have a sibling reunion? And it came to pass that it happened for a weekend. I was drawn into the stream. Catherine could spend a week and then go to Tucson for a week on a bead-buying spree. I could go home with David. I was reluctant but chose to go along with the plan rather than stay home alone. The trip was complicated when I caught a nasty cold a few days before we left. I reckon I was pretty bad company for a while.

Well, things didn’t go exactly as planned, but I saw the deepest snow I had ever seen before other than a drift. Even so, it turned out all right, and we gained more respect than ever for the lowly groundhog.