I remember what December used to be for me. It was full of hot chocolate, icicles, one-piece snowsuits, and a very frozen face. I remember going to the ski hill first thing in the morning. Breathing in that cold air, feeling the soft fresh powder under my skis. I remember thinking this must be some kind of heaven on earth. The snow packed on the trees, the blue sky; I felt like I was in a painting. I can still see and feel it.
Can I ever put into words what it felt like for a child to wake up on a quiet morning, look out the window and see the first snowfall? If I had to use one word to describe it, it would be magical.
I know snow is a little different for me now. I look at it now and think, “How am I going to get around in that?”. The stresses of cold winds and falling snow that could bury you to your knees. However, the little girl in me still wants to jump in it and make snow angels.