A couple of hours ago I watched a truly amazing site: Large, fluffy snowflakes drifted lazily from the clouds, forming sheets of hazy white that somehow never touched the ground. I’m not talking tiny little droplets of almost sleet here people. I’m talking thick, fluffy little cotton swabs of snow. They ambled slowly towards the ground, and I say towards because they never actually touched the ground. They just approached the earth and then quietly winked into another dimension.
Now, it wasn’t because the ground wasw arm and the snow was evaporating as it touched down. It was cold, as cold as you could really expect Texas to be. But this snow, acknowledging the very fact that blankets of snow and East Texas do not mix, simply refused to land.
The temperature was somewhere around freezing, but as I watched this a customer wanders into the store dressed in shorts and a short sleeved, white t-shirt.
“You’re not exactly dressed for the weather,” I tell him.
“Aw, this is Texas,” he replies. “It won’t be like this for long.”
And I had to admit, he was absolutely right. Even the snow knew that.