The Pacific Northwest is known for rain. Not snow. Not at least 23 inches. Not ever.
But yet, there we were, the sky dumping large massive snowflakes from a sky that lay heavy and close to our heads.
It started out slow…
…then it continued to grow.
And grow… and grow… and grow….
Until we were left with a great deal of snow.
Seriously though; it was a crazy amount of snow. Not since I lived in Asheville can I remember having quite so much. Schools were closed. We couldn’t get out of our driveway (and still can’t, turns out slush is a lot harder to drive in then snow).
And it was a grand ol’ time. With soup. And coffee. And lots of snow angels.