Something special happens this time of year when a chill enters the air and the first white flakes fall from the sky. They drift slowly at first, gliding down to earth, and land light as a feather on the ground. As the snow piles up, blanketing the ground, the world around begins to turn into a winter wonderland.
I love this time of year. Yes, it’s cold. Yes, my hands are often freezing. Yes, it snows a lot where I live and yes, sometimes, I complain about all of it, but as I sit at the window watching the snow fall, none of it matters.
Every year I patiently wait for the first snow. The signs slowly reveal themselves; the dull, gray sky, the cold bite in the air. It’s all signs of snow and once that first flake falls I know it has just begun.
How many times as a child did you anticipate the first snow? How many times did you wish for enough so you would have a snow day? How many times did you stand outside, bundled up, looking to the sky as you tried to catch a snowflake on your tongue? How many snowmen did you build or hills did you sled down? How many cups of cocoa did you drink with mini marshmallow to warm yourself?
Unfortunately, once you’re in the working world there’s no such thing as a snow day. You go to work whether it’s snowing or not, but everything else is the same, at least for me.
Maybe it’s a bit of nostalgia for my childhood. Maybe I’ll just always be a kid at heart, but either way I still build snowmen and catch snowflakes and go sledding. I still drink cocoa with mini marshmallows.
I love this time of year.
About a week ago we had a two-day snowstorm. I sat at the bay window in my house, watching the snow fall. Of course it was mixed with rain and sleet, but when it was snow, it looked lovely. It came down in giant clumps, a ton of little snow crystals hugging each other as they drifted from the clouds to the ground. After the storm the world appeared transformed. Snow covered the ground and roads. It laid on power lines, trees and bushes. It was beautiful and peaceful. I decided to go on a winter walk and there was something magical about it.
As a writer I feel as if I should be able to put it all into words, but it’s something that I can’t describe. Any description I could come up with wouldn’t do the beauty of this picturesque scene justice. Maybe that’s the true beauty of it, the real magic. Maybe it’s all in the way I feel about it, the joy I receive from snow, from the little things I use to do as a child and still do today.
Some of my favorite memories have come with snow.
Yes, it’s cold and sometimes the cold and snow almost last a little too long, but it’s beauty outweighs the cold.
There’s something special about this time of year. The snow turns the world into an icy kingdom as flakes flutter to the ground. It’s a winter wonderland and it’s magical.
What are some of your favorite winter memories? Feel free to comment below.