The other morning Mt. Diablo and all of the surrounding hills were dusted in snow. A few cars piled with at least two inches of snow passed us on our drive to school. I did a double-take, hardly believing my eyes. Our neighborhood and all of the local roads were bare as usual. The kids were giddy. It was the closest they’d ever come to snow in their hometown. They have played in snow on vacation, but snow on a regular school day is different. Over dinner that night the kids spoke enviously of several of their friends who lived in a neighborhood on a nearby hillside that had been covered in white. Remembering the excitement I felt as a child waking to snow, I felt sorry that our kids might never experience the welcome interruption of school-day routine that comes with a good snow fall. Our mild Bay Area climate suddenly felt quite unromantic.
the dog with a clipped tail
wags what he has