When it comes to snow, I encourage you to never grow up: get out there and play in it with the energy and joy of a child!
Last night, the forecast didn’t even call for snow. It was an uncharacteristically rainy day in Colorado, but just as we finished watching a movie, the power flickered off, giving us a hint of troubled weather. I opened the curtains and a bright white winterscape displayed outside my window, fat flakes coming from above. I bundled up and ran through the fluffy snow accumulating quickly, jumping around like a puppy, catching snowflakes with my tongue. The snow came down hard but landed softly, with a soothing “whoosh.” Even without a full moon, the light was magical, and I felt transported back to the winters of my childhood in Romania, when the power went out—we played outside in the snow until we were completely wet and icicles formed on our woolen pants. There is simply no good way for me to describe the joy of such occasions—as a kid or as an adult—but let’s just say that I had a smile bigger than the 10 inch snow around me.