Dashing Through the Snow?

 Every winter, as though it was on the teachers' plan for the semester, we'd spend a portion of our music classes singing "Over the river and through the woods to grandmother's house we go! The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh o'er the white and drifted snow-oh!" I always wondered "What river?" "What woods?" and, especially, "What snow?" Every winter was the same: We'd get snow, of course, but never enough for a horse-drawn sleigh. That is, not until The Blizzard of 1978, when I happened to see a nice bay horse drawing an actual open sleigh along the street. Of course, I'd heard the bells first, then went to the door to watch, for the first and only time, as a one horse open sleigh traveled gaily through the neighborhood. Today, while I waited for my bus, I was reminded of that sleigh. The snowflakes blew around me, an inconvenience, like dandruff, instead of the white stuff that inspired songs with laughter and bells.