Or more like a sleet day. Things started out as snow, and when the PP and I went for a morning walk circa 5:45, there was much contemplation of the nature of traces, as we left some, only to find them effaced on our return trip, by more snow. Ah, the pleasures of rediscovering one's city when it is covered in a light dusting of the real stuff, not the fake snow they were generating at Christmastime (with 50-F temperatures) that was made out of soap bubbles.
My new weather ritual is a walk to the Reedy River falls, to see how they look. On Christmas day, after two days of rain, they were boiling, gushing, obliterating the scenic little rocks around them. In the pink pre-dawn this morning, those rocks glowed white around the dark water.
After arriving at the only open coffee shop in town shortly just as it was opening, as using that as an omen to justify a couple of capuccinos (scusa, capuccini), we headed home, looking for our effaced tracks, to find Mike Seidel reporting live from Greenville. What would have made an authentic Upstate backdrop for his reporting would have been if the cars coming to the stoplight had slid into one another for no reason at all, and their drivers emerged, swearing.
Now the neighbor children have emerged in their little coats and hats and mittens, because nothing stings like a slushball. Schools are closed, but of course not the PP's office. If I were not so lazy, I'd take a picture to show you Upstate winter: it would have the daffodils that are blooming, surrounded by thin snow, with just enough ice to kill of the remaining blooms.