On closer inspection the prints were far larger than expected, resembling the heavy footed and rarely sighted Easter hare in gumboots who appeared to have trampled through settled snow.

Alas, and like many homes across Launceston, it was the children's pawprints and not a member of the Leporidae family who had left the trail.

The wee hours had summoned them, breaking their slumber to form a highly excitable forward party, in search of the results of a rare phenomenon that facilitated adventure and an initial gobsmacked silence - just as quickly broken with the first of many snowball fights.

A southern hemisphere white Christmas in winter caused by an Antarctic blast. A southerly wind blowing a cold front from the vast continent below our state, had struck and delivered unbridled joy.

Snow regularly settles on kunanyi/Mt Wellington in the South, even during December. But snow in Launceston's City Park with skiing and snowboard enthusiasts utilising the slopes of rolling lawns for a rare opportunity - well that was a sight to be seen.

The Examiner, August 5, 2020, reported that the snow dump was the most significant since August 3, 1921 when the same paper recounted: "A fine selection of pictures was obtained of scenes in and around Hobart, and these convey a striking impression of the heavy fall that was experienced in the south. A snowballing scene in Launceston is also included. There are nearly three pages of snow pictures and these will represent a splendid record of one of the biggest snowstorms experienced in Tasmania."

Ninety-nine years later, the photos of the snowstorm striking Launceston were recorded in prolific proportions thanks to the advent of smart devices and social media.

When you consider the number of images that continued to pop up on "the feed", capturing happiness as families rejoiced in an uncommon weather event, there is no doubt that the gallery of photos curated will, in many years' time, provide a worthy record of memories.

The snow continued to fall for the remainder of the week at turbunna/Ben Lomond causing traffic jams on Jacob's Ladder by the weekend when the northern mountain became the place to be.

"Fit chains or don't attempt the ladder", "the Book ..." assertively reminded those venturing to the top. Not sure that message got through (nor the traffic as a result).

My soundtrack for the day was quickly chosen: an Andrea Bocelli Concerto from Central Park. Although, for a romantic moment I thought of Bing Crosby's White Christmas, but then I reminded myself that it wasn't actually Christmas Day, when the weather is regularly hot.

Antarctica and my heroes, Ernest Shackleton and Douglas Mawson's stories of exploration and survival visited my brain again as I thought of blizzards, canvas tents, and tinned beef.

Drifting back to reality, it was the slipperiness of the back steps as I ventured out to, ironically, hang out a load of towels on the clothesline because it was a good drying day that was the extent of my adventure.

But then my mood shifted.

Another type of blast rocked the capital of Lebanon, Beirut. Facebook flickered between pictures of bliss contrasted against utter devastation. Utter carnage and tragedy and loss and sadness and ongoing confusion.

Why did this have to happen? We were having such a good day.

At least 154 people were killed and 5000 injured with many others left homeless following the blast which left a crater more than 40 metres deep.

The blast rocked the port and destroyed a significant portion of the city.

It was caused by fire in a warehouse storing 2750 tonnes of ammonium nitrate.

Ammonium nitrate is an explosive used for blasting rock in quarries and the consequences were catastrophic.

The explosive material, destined for a mine in Mozambique, had been stored inappropriately and incorrectly following surrender from a cargo ship, the MV Rhosus, when it docked and was unable to continue its journey during late 2013.

The ship's owner, Igor Grechushkin, abandoned the vessel, which was deemed unseaworthy. He soon filed for bankruptcy.

The blast was difficult to watch and even more difficult to fathom.

One Australian, two-year old toddler Isaac Oehlers died as a result.

And then the twins arrived home from school in a hurry with bags strewn across the hallway and headed back outside to throw the last remaining ice and snow at each other. With noticeable protest they reluctantly changed out of their school shoes and slid into the gumboots which had caused my early morning confusion.

Like many children, they had already been exposed to the horrors of the Beirut explosion via the internet and a discussion subsequently followed with their teachers carefully and sensitively explaining the tragedy.

The Easter Bunny hadn't returned, but a once in a century snowstorm and the happiness that eventuated defined how lucky we are.