Last night was our first snowfall of the season. It’s continued today, just enough to make the roads slushy and dust the grass and rooftops with white. In the next couple days we might have a few more flurries, but not anything substantial. Nevertheless, it’s made me finally embrace the fact that winter is here.
I can never quite explain the excitement I feel when snow falls. It makes me want to go out and play in it, dance in it, touch it. It covers everything in a silent, sparkling white blanket. There’s something magical about it, something more than just white and cold. I know its distinct smell, how it feels to step in an unbroken patch, the crunching sound it makes. There’s something mesmerizing about how it falls from the sky.
It’s also a sign that the holidays are near. Time with family and friends, time for warm kitchens, full bellies, trees bedecked with twinkling lights. Coming in from the cold outside, taking off heavy layers, and enjoying a hot cup of coffee or hot chocolate. The excitement of opening a colorfully wrapped present or thoughtfully chosen and sealed card–or watching someone open something you’ve chosen for them. Even as the years pass and fewer presents under the tree have our name, we remember what it’s like as a child. It becomes equally as exciting to watch the younger generation open their presents. I think snow stirs these memories. Even if I have to wait a few weeks for these things, the anticipation makes the happiness stick with me.
So if you see me watching snow fall with a grin, this is likely what I’m thinking about.