Welcome to Snowvannah

In some places, two-and-half inches of snow does not warrant school closures, toilet paper hoarding, and general interruption of daily tasks.

Savannah is not one of those places.

This morning we woke to a shimmering duvet cast across the streets by barometric angels. All regular programming has been deferred.

No telling when life might return to normal. The last time snow graced us five years ago, it took a week for everyone to get back to work. Our front yard snowperson stuck around so long we got worried we were violating STVR codes.

I have witnessed fresh snowfall so rarely in my life that I don’t think I’ll ever get over the magic. It’s as if the world held its breath to slowly exhale in a whisper. Stepping outside brings instant meditative transcendence, punctuated only by the pop and crackle of icicles falling from palm fronds.

The blurring of boundaries between lawn and curb, of street and sky, of time and space never cease to blow my mind. To see chaos disappear under a blanket of feathery crystal alchemy—the geometric perfection!—fulfills the hope that this world can be quieted and calmed by Mother Nature, even if just for the morning before the Southern sun melts away the illusion.

Of course, while Savannah snow may be a glorious anomaly, not everyone has the luxury to appreciate it. Local shelters and soup kitchens need more support than ever, and hopefully a few more folks stayed warm and fed from funds raised for Emmaus House by last Friday’s Georgia on My Mind show. (If you’re seeking a snow day soundtrack, the full concert is on YouTube.)

At a time where none of us know anything about what comes next, the snowy interlude is a welcome reprieve. Let us find courage in nature’s enduring complexity and contemplate deleting our Meta accounts. May the snowflakes remind us that compassion is not a weakness, and that this too shall pass.

As J.R.R. Tolkein consoles, “So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their ending.”

Until then, we have to take wonder where we can get it.

May the hair on your toes never fall out ~ JLL