To a teacher, or a student too really, there isn't much more unfair than a snowstorm on a Friday afternoon.

It'd been building up; the newscasters had been hyping the storm for a few days. But it really didn't look like it was ever going to get here. It seemed to dawdle over Arkansas a lot longer than most weather fronts do. I figured it wouldn't even get here until this evening. I half-expected schools and businesses to close for the day anyway, simply from the threat. In the South, the mere possibility of severe weather sends droves of people to the stores to load up on essentials, just in case we're all trapped in our homes for a few hours. But I knew we wouldn't get out of school. Today was the last day of this grading period, so all the teachers were trying to get grades recorded and all the students were grubbing for extra credit. Also, our lower school had Grandparents' Day today, and with all those guests on campus there was no way they were going to cancel anything.

But sure enough, my students returned from their lunch period to inform me that it had started to snow. It was pretty light, more tiny ice crystals than actual flakes, and snowing with no real enthusiasm for the job. At first it didn't even stick but rather blew around in big swirls. The girls kept asking if I thought there was any chance we'd get out early. I felt it was unlikely; in the six years I've taught at the school I think we've had something like three snow days. And sending kids home early is logistically much more difficult than canceling school early in the morning before the students arrive. Not all our kids drive themselves, not all our parents can change their schedules that quickly to come collect their children, and we have no school-provided transportation available. So I told the kids to strap themselves in and deal with it.

But by golly after a while it started to stick, first on the playground wood chips, then on the grass. Apparently the powers-that-be decided that sticking on the pavement would come next, because an announcement came over the loudspeaker at about 2:25, just at the beginning of the last class of the day, announcing that the seniors were released (our 12th-graders receive a number of privileges that come with seniority). After they had cleared the hallway (it took all of maybe three minutes), a second announcement released the sophomores (our juniors were off-campus at a retreat and had apparently already been released), and a final announcement at about 2:35 released the freshmen (I teach 9th grade).

It was entertaining to see the reactions of the freshmen: 1) excited about the rare escape from school (although I was quite gratified to hear more than one student in my last class complain that they were going to miss their favorite class); 2) overjoyed at the chance to run around in the snow; and 3) distressed at the effect the weather might have on their Friday night plans (really, how many parents are going to want to run shuttle for a gaggle of giggling girls to the movie theater in the snow?). These conflicting emotions really highlight how the freshmen are perched between childhood and adulthood.

But, man, somehow getting a forty-minute snow day is like winning $20 in the lottery. It's appreciated, but it had the potential to be so much more.

I wonder what this relapse into winter weather will do to our local flora, after enough warm days to bring out the buds on the trees. The daffodils had started to bloom, and the forsythia bushes were working on some nice flowers. Some of the pear trees had started blossoming too. Oh well. We may not have many flowers this spring. Poor little guys, so easily beguiled.