Snow.

February 12, 2006

Snow.

Today, I admit, for the first time I miss the East Coast. I miss the one thing I have said more than anything that I fled to Texas to escape: the Winter.

There is a huge snowstorm blowing through the East and New England now and I am not there to make a snowman or to make snow angels or just, in general, to wander around and see Washington, DC under a blanket of white.

Almost all of my favorite memories from childhood take place in the snow. When I was in fifth grade we had to write essays on what we thought heaven was and mine was all about a place where there was beautiful wet, yet fluffy, snow and you could play in it all day long and never get wet and never get cold.

I think most people would concede there is something magical about the earth right after a snowfall – everything is quieter and everything seems peaceful. For a morning, all you can hear are kids running around and laughing and falling and birds trying to make a hole to find the nest they built.

And then of course it all goes away and cars ruin it and turn it black and ugly and people complain about how it is making it impossible to go to work. I have always hoped that I would never become someone who would find snow a nuisance.

Of course now, where I am, there is no snow to be found.

Only more cases to be read…

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