Feb. 24, 2005 10:58 p.m.
I finally witnessed my first snowstorm of this winter season, a great whiteout in the D.C. area that lasted the entire day. I was out of town or overseas for virtually every flake that fell so far this year, including the blizzard that socked most of the Northeast in January. I was disappointed in Israel, too. Snow was forecast there during my recent tour, but it never got cold enough in Jerusalem to make it happen.
I love snow. I love watching it fall, floating lazily to the ground or swirling in the wind, transforming everything it touches, coating the world in beautiful and brilliant layers of white. I love driving in it, especially when it's thick, feeling the tires crunch and search for a grip. I love the feel of it under my boots, and I love scooping it into my hands, making and throwing snowballs. As far as I'm concerned, snow is the only good thing about winter. I might get sick of it if I lived in a place that gets snow all the time, but I don't, so I'm not. The way I see it, snow is the bonus you get for suffering through months of cold and gray — a present from above in an otherwise dreary stretch of time, a dose of fun during the worst of the four seasons.
This storm was also well-timed, since I'm visiting my daughters. Their schools were closed, so we got to hang out and enjoy the whole day together. It's a special time, and I'm grateful.
[Ed. note: Click the video tab in the upper right to watch video of Leventhal's reports.]
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