The Rotunda

Issue date: 2/3/10 Section: Features

Media Credit: Lexi Barker

Like everybody who has ever enjoyed a snow day as a child, I am well aware that snow is much more than a collection of crystalline water ice flakes. Snow can be magical, practical, or even an artistic medium. As somebody who grew up on Calvin and Hobbes, I have always wanted to build my own macabre legion of snowmen for the sole purpose of terrifying the neighbors. And it seems that Longwood has its own Calvin, as I have had the honor of seeing the "impaled through the gut with a lamppost" snowman while shuffling through the slush on campus.

But my story this week is, sadly, not about snowmen committing suicide or murdering each other with their carrot noses. This week I'm going to take us back to England during the winter break. While a six-inch snowfall in Virginia is fairly common, the United Kingdom is a bit of a snow virgin. More often than not, winters there are just exceedingly cold with a bit of liquid rainfall because England needs to maintain its title as "Country with the Most Miserable Weather."

Somehow, though, this past December brought a little blanket of fluffy, white snow to southern England. The entire area shut down to discourage drivers from braving the slippery roads because the English refuse to lay down salt or dirt on icy roads, presumably because doing so would ruin their picturesque beauty. So, for several days, most of the people on the military base where my family lives opted to stay at home until the ice began to melt.

When I finally dared to get in a car, I was treated to the sight of numerous happy little snowmen camped out all over the base. It seemed that at least every other house had a snowman - or, for the more progressive houses, a snow woman - smiling and waving at passing cars in its front yard.

Now if you've ever built a snowman before, I'm sure you have fond memories of bundling up in your snowsuit with your siblings or friends and braving the trek outside to painstakingly roll up the three large snowballs that would eventually become your new frosty friend. I managed to see a few local kids do just that; their faces were lit up with excitement and joy as they created a unique creature from their imagination.

But there will always be those that march to the beat of a different drum, and it seems that I tend to happen upon those rogue musicians. My family has two neighbors that live behind us. They're both fighter pilots. Not long after the roads became safe, my mother, my brother, Trevor, and I piled into the car to go somewhere. We decided to take the back road and, in doing so, passed the fighter pilots' houses.

Continued...

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