a little look back
It's snowing outside, it's been coming down since early this morning. But unlike most times, it's not a storm, at least not one we New Englanders consider to be a proper storm. It's sticking, it's the light and fluffy kind of snow that falls softly and gives everything a soft light coating that almost seems magical. Of course, being in a city, the purity of the white snow is lost quickly, even as it falls, it meshes with the brown dirt that has been left from boots, tires and animals.
Sitting and watching from the desk at work, I get to see a lot of people, families particularly go by and I can't help but remember being young, being a kid and wishing for a snow day. Being excited when the snow came and we got to layer up and go outside and play. It was a wonderland, forts, snowball fights, sledding, then going home, covered in snow and looking like a snow monster. Getting in the door and being told not move from the door before shedding my layers and having hot cocoa to warm up.
I know it sounds like a cheesy movie, but those days, we lived for them. That is what winter meant to me, to so many kids. And for that small time, it was like everything was perfect. Like the snow made everything, even inside the house calm, quiet, and yes, just a little magical.
But now, being an adult, it's different. I envy those children, that sense of childlike wonder, the idea that anything could happen. Snow means shoveling, it means falling on my ass on the way to work, and hurting myself. It means bringing extra shoes, even a change of clothes to wear to work.
/end of musings.
♥
Sitting and watching from the desk at work, I get to see a lot of people, families particularly go by and I can't help but remember being young, being a kid and wishing for a snow day. Being excited when the snow came and we got to layer up and go outside and play. It was a wonderland, forts, snowball fights, sledding, then going home, covered in snow and looking like a snow monster. Getting in the door and being told not move from the door before shedding my layers and having hot cocoa to warm up.
I know it sounds like a cheesy movie, but those days, we lived for them. That is what winter meant to me, to so many kids. And for that small time, it was like everything was perfect. Like the snow made everything, even inside the house calm, quiet, and yes, just a little magical.
But now, being an adult, it's different. I envy those children, that sense of childlike wonder, the idea that anything could happen. Snow means shoveling, it means falling on my ass on the way to work, and hurting myself. It means bringing extra shoes, even a change of clothes to wear to work.
/end of musings.
♥