It's a party, it's our Spring Snow Storm

If you were ever going to give a snowstorm party, this one would be it. Wait until a Sunday evening when everyone is safe at home watching basketball or something. Tease it all day with dribs and drabs and then go All In and bring it on in big generous soft flakes as fast as you can, no wind, a warmish 30 degrees, with just enough dusk to illuminate the scene. Paint the roofs and the streets and the trees and leave six or more fluffy inches by 8 p.m.
That will give the overnight crews a nice head start cleaning up after the party in time for the Monday rush.

Snow Butt

It looked so inviting we just had to go out. We pulled on our boots and coats and mittens. It was magical. Quiet. Pristine. We looked at all the familiar places with fresh eyes, watched the woods fill up, admired the cascades under the streetlight. We let it snow, let it snow as we left tracks in the virgin fluff all the way to Langston Court, then back. The acoustics made it possible to hear excited children shouting a mile away, their dog barking with them. By the time we got home we felt refreshed and glad to be alive in this fleeting winter storm.
Now it was Birdie's turn. We released the hound and her joy was immediate, dashing through the snow, delighted to be invited to the party at last, covering herself in the snow and loving it.
It's a springtime celebration in Minnesota. What's next?