It doesn’t fall straight to the ground, in the way that electrons find the quickest path to the ground. It blows around, sometimes moving side to side. It takes the long way home. And it enjoys every moment of it.
It is cold, but it warms hearts.
In Grade 8, when it snowed for the first time that year, my teacher let us run around outside in it. It was kind of bittersweet: the first snow of the season, but our last year in elementary school. At the time, though, we didn’t think of this. We just held hands – mittens – and ran around in circles on the frozen ground.
Even though I see snow every year, it never ceases to be magical. It’s especially so when someone who has never seen snow before sees it for the first time. My sister-in-law, who lives in Australia, came to Canada a few years ago during the winter, and experienced her first snowfall. My favourite picture from this experience was when my little sister, her cheeks red from the cold, attacked her with a shovel of snow. And then came the snowballs…
Snow means it is okay to start listening to Christmas songs. I’ve been waiting since last year to break out Lady Antebellum’s On This Winter’s Night, and even though it is (technically) not Winter, and it is daytime as I write this, I still love it.
I always forget how lovely it is to wake up and see a white frosting on top of my roof, and on the grass outside. And I also forget how hard it is to get out of my nice, warm bed and into the cold air. My cat has found the perfect solution: sleeping on the heating vents of various rooms in my house. She rotates between them throughout the day; it’s like the National Tour of Sleeping on the Heating Vents. Tickets free – cup of hot chocolate advised.
Speaking of forgetting things, the pockets of my winter coat are treasure mines. Literally. This year, I found my old favourite lip balm, a scented hand sanitizer, and a horoscope for the Chinese New Year that said that I will have many opportunities for change this (last) year.
Winter always makes me wish I had knitted more scarves in the summer. When I knitted this summer, my family would sometimes look at me like I was crazy because it was so hot out. Now it makes more sense to knit. Or, it seems like it does; except by the time I finish another scarf it would probably be summer again.
Snow, even a light dusting that barely stays on the ground like todays did, means the possibility of snow days (too much snow to go to school… yes, it’s an actual thing. All my fellow Canadians understand).
I am not yet walking in a Winter Wonderland, but soon I will be. Soon I will have to break out my snow boots, and soon there will be snowmen greeting me on my walk home from school. Soon, autumn will fall into winter. But for now, I wait.