It's snowing at my house.
You can tell that I'm southern because such a thing is even worthy of a mention. Snow is such a novelty for southern folk that we go outside and stare at it to capture every random flake in its fleeting beauty.
My tiny magnolia tree is gathering a fluffy covering.
I stood on my porch, just behind the glare of the streetlight and I could see illuminated streams of snow that showed like tracers from filigree fireworks.
We are so easily amused, those of us who are distracted by shiny objects. Southerners in the presence of a few snowflakes.