No sooner had I penned a column on my yen for snow this season, than the heavens opened and wintry flakes fell generously from the sky, and all rejoiced — right?

I’d say I’ve heard more comments of gratitude for the moisture than negative comments about the blustery weather — especially after the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration released a prediction this month of below-average spring runoff across Colorado basins, a result of the 2018 drought. We all know how precious a resource our water is, and we understand the ice and snow are a gift, despite the delays, cancellations and slick roads that come with it.

When I first moved to Colorado, I was surprised at how quick schools, churches, government offices and other organizations and businesses were to delay starts — or close altogether — when a handful of inches of powder fell. And not to mention the social calendar switch-ups; it seemed two or three flakes would fall from the sky and suddenly every happy hour date and birthday party was postponed.

In my Midwestern hometown, it had to be a true knock-down, drag ’em-out blizzard before anyone would cancel much of anything. It’s raining? Get to softball practice and bring an umbrella. It’s sleeting? Be careful out there, but yes, the potluck is still on. It’s snowing? How lovely, the kids will enjoy building forts during recess.

Maybe it was our straight-as-an-arrow, flat-as-a-pancake roads, our giant farm trucks and tractors or our slower schedules to start with, but we just did not consider changing things up because of precipitation. I can remember running at track-and-field meets as buckets of rain poured from clouds overhead — as long as there was no lightning, we kept going. And even then, we might shelter up inside for 20 minutes, then get right back to it as if the bolts had never happened. The only situations we didn’t mess with were tornadoes. Those sirens meant business, and just because we’re a hardy bunch doesn’t make us stupid.

The interesting thing was, I realized, no one in the southern Colorado was upset by a change of plans when weather hit. In fact, there seemed to be an understanding amongst the masses: taking a snow day is a positive, a welcome break from the usual hustle-and-bustle of daily life. Call it a mental-health day, a chance to catch up on things at home or read the novel you’ve been neglecting, call it whatever you like. No one will judge you for it. Coloradans, I’ve learned, work hard, but they also play hard, and, I would argue, rest well. They also understand the hassle of working from home, booking another night at the hotel or spending a few extra bucks on an all-wheel-drive vehicle far outweigh the stresses that come with auto accidents — life-threatening or not.

Every year I get older, I have come to relish the proverbial snow days of life. I believe they are nature’s way of telling us to slow down, savor, stay sane and safe. A few weeks ago when I caught a nasty cold after traveling, I knew it was my body’s way of forcing me to stop checking email around the clock or putting off sleep for other tasks that felt more important than my health. I quieted my thoughts, swallowed some cough syrup, slept all day. In past years, I might have scolded myself for not being more productive, but I know I made the wise, mature decision and was likely able to return to work and life more quickly than if I’d ignored the plea to slow down.

As others have come down with the same symptoms since, I’ve been able to pitch in and cover for them as they recover, which is truly how we make the world go ’round anyways. There’s a saying that goes “You can do anything, but not everything,” and maybe sickness and snow days —and broken legs and broke-down cars — are how we keep that in mind.

During our snow day last week, I worked from home. I wasn’t planning to, but starting around noon the day before, the meeting and appointment cancellations started rolling in with news of the next day’s storm. One by one, I marked meetings, events and phone calls off my list for the day as employees, co-workers, readers and other professional connections reached out to cancel or reschedule. By the next morning, my car was coated in ice sitting in a parking lot that had turned into a skating rink and my schedule was clear. I went to work on my home computer answering emails, editing stories and writing this column, all the while thankful I was in no risk of rear-ending someone on the way to the office or slipping on a sidewalk that had yet to be salted.

How do you spend your snow days? Also, don’t forget to send us your snowy photos if you were able to get out and explore the neighborhood!

Hannah Blick has lived in the Pikes Peak region for six years and enjoys exploring the many neighborhood haunts and side streets of northern Colorado Springs. Send your feedback and column ideas to hannah.blick@pikespeaknewspapers.com.

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