First Snows
The Western North Carolina Mountains had their first snow day today. Watching the webcams from time to time during the day brought back many great memories.
There’s a magic to the first snow that roots itself deep in memory, stretching across years and places. In Kings Mountain, NC, where the winters were mild and snow was a gift rather than a certainty, the first flakes meant the world was about to change. As a kid, waking up to a white-coated street was like waking up on Christmas morning. School would call it a day, and we’d pile out of the house, sleds in hand, to the steep street just beyond our driveway.
The neighborhood came alive. Kids bundled in mismatched gloves and oversized coats joined a growing crowd of laughter and cheers. The street became a carnival of cardboard scraps, plastic sleds, and anything slick enough to fly. Parents, too, shed their roles and joined in—racing their children down the slope, faces lit with exhilaration. As the sun set, the streetlights cast a golden glow on the snow, and still, we wouldn’t go inside. Not even when my mom stood in the doorway with a mug of hot chocolate, calling me back to warmth. The cold didn’t matter. The snow was our kingdom, and the night was ours.
Years later, in Boone, NC, the snow took on a different meaning but never lost its magic. At Appalachian State, the first snowfall transformed the campus into a scene out of a postcard. The wind would whip through the valley, and trudging across campus meant leaning into the gusts, head bowed. But there was comfort in it, too. Snow days in Boone were about hunkering down with friends in dorms or apartments, the smell of instant ramen and coffee filling the air.
By nightfall, though, the real fun began. We’d raid the cafeteria for trays, knowing they were destined for “traying” down President’s Hill. There, under the moon’s dim light, we’d gather—a haphazard crowd of students bundled against the cold. We took turns launching down the hill, laughing so hard our cheeks ached. It was camaraderie shared in the fleeting wonder of snow.
And then, after the laughter faded, came the quiet. Snow muffles the world, wrapping it in a serene hush. Walking home, all you’d hear was the crunch of boots breaking the surface. The world blanketed in white, felt clean, untouched—a fresh start. In those moments, it was impossible not to feel the peace snow brings, reminding you that even in chaos, there’s beauty in stillness. I love the quiet of the night after a snowfall.
