“And finally Winter, with its bitin’, whinin’ wind, and all the land will be mantled with snow.”
Can you think of two words with a more magical connotation? Growing up near the beach, I can remember waking up and holding my breath for a quick moment right before pulling back the blinds every time snow had been forecast. It was hardly ever there, but in the few times it was, when the world outside lay beneath a blanket of snow, there was barely enough time to throw on clothes. Because snow was so rare, we never had the right kind of gear. We’d pull on parachute-like track pants over our jeans, three pairs of socks with our trainers, and mismatched hats and coats. Waterproof was a foreign idea.
This awe and wonder continued through my first year of college, where I’d wander the campus with my camera and love how often it snowed in the mountains. The world was transformed, back gardens off the Lawn without a footprint to mar their powdered landscape. But in winter of my second year, the white stuff and I had a bit of a falling out. Suddenly, living miles off campus put me out of walking distance to class or work in inclement weather. A weak battery in my car meant countless mornings it wouldn’t start and ice to battle against while scraping sheets of it off my windshield. Snow became something to endure, not enjoy.
But here in London, without the stress of not being able to get where I need to be, I’ve found myself falling back in love with snow, rediscovering that childhood wonder, in fact even hoping for it. The past couple of weeks the temperature has dropped so bitterly (okay, okay, to freezing level), it seemed almost like it’d be unnatural for a few flurries not to result from it. They’ve been calling for snow since early last week and finally, last night, it came.
I woke up today and let out a little scream at the sight of big white flakes tumbling from the sky. I pulled on boots, hat and jacket and rushed out the door with my camera, if only for a few seconds to get a picture or two. The ground was scarcely covered, but brittle autumn leaves had crystallised beautifully overnight. Even though I spent the morning reading on the couch, instead of outdoors building a snow fort or sledding, it was such a lovely change of pace seeing a white blur in the window out of the corner of my eye.
And while the dusting on the ground today may not have been enough to make a snow angel in, not even enough to make the smallest of snowballs out of, it was just enough to make me smile.