Lots of snow in middle Georgia, appearing from just above Waycross through Roddy, our destination. Every house that had a child inside (perhaps along with some that housed children at heart) had an exuberant snowman or three outside brandishing stick arms.
At the first sight of a snowy roof, I was startled and drew SwampMan’s attention to it. “Could that possibly be global warming on that roof?” I wondered aloud.
“Nah, couldn’t be. It’s too cold for that to be global warming.”
Yet, now that I was paying attention, more and more global warming appeared in the median, then in the pine trees. There was several inches of global warming on parked cars and, by the time we reached Alma, there were lovely snowmen (or is that global warming men?) everywhere, with children reaching out to poke at them wonderingly, never having seen snow before. The farther north we traveled, the more widespread the global warming was. We crossed some slushy bridges that must have been a caution to cross the night before.
By the time we reached my mother and father-in-law’s house, the snow was in full melt mode but we could see that it had been extensive.
I asked my in laws whether snow had been a common feature when they were young. Nope. In their 80+ years life, they could remember snow that accumulated on two, maybe three previous occasions.