Making it snow in Windhoek

My kids want it to snow. So much so, they claim balderdash to any scientific explanation; it simply must snow in Windhoek. For the time being they settle on making sand angels, even if it means sand in their underwear and gritty bed sheets. We did discover something bittersweet: we have a row of trees that have not endured the lengthy drought. They seem to be ash trees with tattered leaves and skinny seed pods bunched at the ends giving the branches a heavy, droopy look. Inside the cracked brown pods are papery white seeds with dark centers and they look like the enlarged white blood cell drawings from biology class. 

Testing out their sturdiness, I shook the dead trees totally oblivious to the idea of knocking off resting spiders or bugs and falling down my shirt. I lucked out and instead received a mess of seeds falling like fat snow flakes. Of course this amused my children to no end and begged me to make it snow.  So I shook those trees as if I were strangling skinny bird necks, all for the love of kids. I wonder what the neighbors must think?

Let it snow!