Looking out the window onto my backyard this week reminded me of nothing more than looking out the window onto my backyard in the winter of 1978-1979. Different windows, different yards, but once again measuring the snow against the fence, trying to judge where things are under the mounds of white, seeing neatly shoveled paths that have become more of a necessity than a convenience. I know this winter doesn’t stack up to that winter, really. The 19.3 inches of snow we got between Jan. 31-Feb. 2 are a bit more than the largest snowfall that year (18.8 inches Jan. 13-14, 1979), but only a fraction of the nearly 90 inches of snow that fell that winter. It was also the last of a stretch of three unusually cold, unusually snowy winters that had people on the streets speculating about the return of the ice age. How wrong they were. By contrast, the most recent storm more than doubled our snowfall for this winter, so far. Even if we get more snow from here on out, we’re unlikely to end up topping the 7½ feet that fell that winter. With the snow, of course, comes days off of school. This time around, it also meant days off work — or at least out of the office — for many of us, leading to enforced togetherness as we shoveled and watched SpongeBob and beaded necklaces and sat around the kitchen table drinking coffee at two in the afternoon. I hear lots of adults talking about how different things are now, how they made it to school in worse conditions (uphill, both ways, and barefoot). I remember trudging to school through knee-deep snow as well, although I don’t think my knees were that high off the ground then. But I also remember going to school an extra week into June to make up for the snow days, so schools closed then, too. I remember making snowmen taller than me, and climbing snowbanks and playing king-of-the-hill. That probably wouldn’t be countenanced now, given that the object was to push your competitors off a snowbank that was several feet high, usually down into a parking lot. Then again, if the adults had seen, it probably would not have been countenanced even in the dark ages before car seats and bike helmets. I’m glad my kids are experiencing winter, even with the snow and ice and rolling cancellations (first Biddy Basketball on Sunday, then Frank’s hockey game, then one school, then the other schools …). For a few years, it seemed like we had winters that were just kind of cold and gray and damp. Much easier logistically, but nowhere near as exhilarating as bright sun shining out of a blue sky onto a glittering blanket of white. I know, by the time this is read, much of that white will be gray, and I’ll be tired of cold, wet feet and struggling to get in and out of parking places. But for now, thank you, God, for the beauty of winter.