They had never seen snow like this before. They want to take advantage of it.

In New Orleans’ Ninth Ward on Tuesday, levees built to keep the Mississippi River at bay suddenly provided the perfect slope for sledding. And in unusual places for such work, scraps of cardboard, storage container lids and hard plastic lids cut from rolling garbage cans become snowmobiles. .

Owen Reilly, 9, used a metal cookie sheet.

“It seems scientifically impossible for it to snow here,” Owen said, brushing a white string from his hand. He had never seen it before in his life.

The Gulf Coast is a part of the world that is deeply familiar with extreme weather. The Ninth Ward was almost completely submerged by Hurricane Katrina. It’s a place that many people talk about specifically for taking action like this, even boasting about sleeping through a Category 1 hurricane.

But snow is rare; enough snow to accumulate on the ground, although rare. So, Tuesday’s powder inspired a lot of excitement and joy as people (and pets) came out, shrugging off worries about cold pipes and slippery roads to enjoy something that was truly special.

“This is a joy for us,” said Monique Gary, 62, as she walked her golden retriever in Lafayette, La. He hoped he wouldn’t lose his heat or water — a major problem during Louisiana’s winter storms in recent years.

Zinnia Dayrit, 40, woke up and immediately went to shovel three knee-high piles of snow in Houston’s Cotton Grove neighborhood with her son and boyfriend. Then, they had a snowball fight.

“I’ve lived in Houston all my life — 40 years — and these are the biggest snows I’ve ever seen and the heaviest snows I’ve ever seen,” Ms. Dayrit said.

Reind Kreidieh, 41, screamed with joy as he flew down the streets of Houston on a paddle attached to his neighbor’s Nissan sedan. He slid back and forth, kicking snow off the board as he howled with laughter. He and his neighbors took turns doing “skitting”, or “skitting”.

“That’s great!” he said, seeming to state the obvious.

Elsewhere in Houston, Stacey Franklin, 44, walked the esplanade with her cat, Penelope, in the car under a blanket. “Look, they’re building a snowman!” he said to Penelope.

“I thought he wanted to see all the snow,” he explained. “It’s a big moment.”

Wes Ralston’s screams cut through the quiet, snowy morning at a football stadium in northwest Houston. “Hit hut!”

Mr Ralston, 51, threw a football at his 10-year-old son, Holt, knocking him to the ground. The two rolled around in the snow, laughing until their faces turned red. They had been outside for hours, taking advantage of days off from work or school.

“Two inches of snow makes it easier to get your dad to sit on top of you when he hits you,” Mr. Ralston said as he brushed snow off his winter coat.

They planned to go sledding next.

J. David Goodman contributed reporting from Houston.