Prompt and Circumstance

There's No Business Like Snow Business

('snow day' Dec. 9-11, 2016)

Once upon a snowfield a very long time ago, it came to pass that snow fell in springtime on the Australian aptly named Snowy Mountains.

Now it should be clarified without delay, it is a rare and quite wondrous thing for snow to fall in Australia in springtime. Normally, in this neck of the woods (the said Snowy Mountains), snow falls lusciously deep, quite wondrously transforming the mountains into a white and sparkling wonderland... IN WINTER, that amazingly, is NOT at Christmas-time in Australia. The true snow season is traditionally between early June and early October (A collective sigh can be heard to rumble around the whole rest of the world).

Once upon the Adelaide Hills in the midst of a winter, an even longer time ago (like middle of last century!), a little girl was hastily driven up to the highest look-out point to witness this fabled snow for the first time in her entire six years. It should be pointed out that the snowfall was small (some, quite cruel souls would say pitiful), and the winter not really cold enough to sustain the crispy frozen-ness for long. There were quite a few pockets of snow... and one small snowman growing smaller by the minute. The little girl was nonetheless impressed with the vision in reality instead of in storybooks; the fingertip brrrrrr... cold feel; and likewise fingertip taste.

Fast forward to the unseasonal snowfall on those Snowy Mountains; the little girl all grown up now, actually married and returning from her honeymoon in Australia's north eastern tropics... some four weeks after the last 'real' snowfalls should have finished.

The new husband heard on the radio about the unexpected brief whiteout and couldn't resist the romance of detouring some hundreds of miles for his beloved to experience the wonder as he'd known it all his growing up years in Denmark.

Alas, much of this shortfall had evaporated before they arrived, despite his best efforts. But his bride was an optimistic type, highly gratified by small windfalls and snowfalls, too. A hasty glance around found a stash of snow nearby built up to a handy size behind a rock - and best of all, out of her sight. His secret plan evolved within seconds.

Sneaking up along the passenger side of the car where she sat, mesmerised by the view of many pockets of whiteness, he shouted, "DUCK! SNOWSTORM!" and with a mighty flourish, flung his armfuls of snow as hard as he could against the car window. And then could hardly stay upright for laughter as she really did duck, and gasp and cover her mouth with her gloved hands - first from shock and then as she joined into the hilarity of her personal snow-storm.

Stunning how that memory has never melted... even more than 51 years later!