White out snow is fantastic. Driving or walking through it instantly brings back childhood memories. Sledding, snowmobiling, building snow forts, winter time growing up was great.
I remember my brother, the artist he was, building a giant Bart Simpson head in the front yard. It had to be six feet high by six feet wide. I remember on snow days digging trails around the back yard for the dogs to run in. I remember always trying, but never succeeding to build snow stairs up to our bedroom window.
I remember sledding down hills for hours, building ramps, walls, and moguls. I remember surfing on those orange torpedo sleds. I remember still trying to sled when March warmth was hitting and the snow wasn’t quite good enough anymore.
I remember snowmobiling with my dad, brother, and cousins. Wisconsin, Colorado, Michigan, even here in Illinois. What a thrill! I remember going for seemingly hours long rides, losing feeling in my toes, and stopping at some dinky shack in the middle of nowhere for hot chocolate and a burger.
Although these snow storms can be nasty, they sure do illicit great memories!