My wife is a human barometer. She is unusually sensitive to the changes in atmospheric pressure that occur when a front moves in, bringing some form of precipitation. Last night, Allison -- weak, weary and ache-y from a long day at school -- came home and exclaimed, "I think it is going to snow." Now, she's usually pretty accurate about weather changes, but snow? The forecast indicated an extremely low chance of light flurries north of home, but that was it. Nevertheless, she was adamant in her prognosticating.
So what do I see when I leave for work this morning? A thin layer (less than a quarter inch) of white powder covering the grounds and cars outside our apartment. Not much, but enough to make a couple of snowballs. And, it just started "snowing" again down here at the office. I need to stop doubting Allison's meteorological superpowers.
(I am well aware that folks living north of Atlanta would laugh at our lame excuse for "snow." Just back off, man! Let us enjoy our novelty. The high will probably be back up to 70 by next week anyway.)
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