THE SNOW STORM Clouds building in the distance, dark and black they seemed to be. Rolling and getting closer, a sight I hate to see. For it looked like a norther, from the mountains it had come. Down it rolled out of Canada, is where it had come from. Across the mighty Rockies, down mountain sides and slopes, It thundered on down toward the plains, lessening we'd hoped. But speed and wind it gathered up, as it moved down to the south. We needed moisture pretty bad, to help control the drought. But this was more than just some snow, for ground so neglected. Just about every ten years or so something like this was expected. A one inch snow with lots of wind, would make drifts six foot high. Then when the wind would change at night, the drifts would move on by. They'd build again in a different place, maybe more snow flakes would fall. The ground some places would be bare, others ten feet tall. For days on end it would move around, impossible to walk or drive. Everyone would look from windows, all buried deep inside. If you would look out over the land, snow up to tall house tops. The sun was yet to shine again, when would it ever stop. The winds howled on through the night, and all through the next day. The mighty forces still at work, would keep us all at bay. The gales were strong and blowing hard, as everyone could see. Most cars and trucks now out of site, as it blowed relentlessly. It was in fifty seven, a young kid I was then, I was getting restless, being couped up inside. I wanted it to stop the wind, so on the snow then I could ride. I knew the way the weather was, as mom and dad had said. There'd be no school for days and days, so let the fun begin. All at once the winds died down, the sun we saw at last. Dad got out the shovel, I bundled up real fast. When he had shoveled out a path, I hurried out the door. I looked around at all the snow, it was a bunch, a LOT MORE. The snow was thinly scattered, on places here and there. But others it was covered up, over the rooftop, everywhere. Soon the people came out to see, the children came out to. The grins on the kids faces, as there was no school. We gathered up our sleds and hoods, (car hoods for the snow) And headed up the tallest drift, to coast on down below. I'll tell you about the rest of this, this story does not end. But right now I'll be going, to play with all my friends. The Masked Writer <Q.Q> � 2001 T Lovett |