I can remember when we lived in the parsonage out in the country and we had a big snow and Dad and I got all dressed up in our winter clothes and went out to take a look at how bad we were snowed in. And I can remember how the wind had blown the snow up between the church and the house in a huge white wave and I could walk on the sidewalk, which had very little snow, under the curl of that wave.
In my mind, that’s always been the most snow ever.
But I was thinking about that when my dad sent me photos of their recent snow, of how the snow blew between the church and the parsonage and he had to dig the van out.
I was four. I was about three feet tall, I imagine, maybe shorter.
I bet that was snow about like what Dad has here..