The Romance of Snow

romance of fresh snow...

The quiet falling of lacy snowflakes is mesmerizing, hypnotic, relaxing. Everything inside me tells me it's a miracle that I need to stand quietly still for, and watch with a kind of reverence tinged with awe. Maybe it has something to do with being raised in the desert where the closest thing we had to snow were beige sand dunes, or a long drive into the mountains in the winter for a brief visit. It wasn't practical for a family of desert rats like us to have snow gear so plastic bags over our shoes and socks on our hands had to do, thus the 'brief' visit. After living here in Utah for 21 years now I still get excited about the first snow, and the second, on through Christmas and even January.

I love how it makes things look fresh and new. I love the crunch of it beneath my booted feet when I take night walks through our neighborhood as it falls. My winter breath hangs in the air, a visual manifestation of life, and if cold enough will crystallize into tiny snowflakes and fall, or waft away on the tiniest of frigid breezes. I love to stand beneath a street light and stare up as the tiny flakes descend, making me feel dizzy because it looks like I'm speeding through space, zipping past a zillion stars, but I'm just standing there, staring up into the light, in muffled silence. I love it's natural luminescence and the stark shadows cast by the naked trees. I love how it makes things quiet, and encourages me to slow down and just 'be'.

 There is just something about the Pre-Christmas snow that brings to mind so may nostalgic pictures...

Who can resist the idea of a sleigh ride? All bundled up with a fur muff and lap robe with hot bricks under your feet with the sound of jingling sleigh bells and the soft rhythmic whuff-whuff-whuff of muffled hoof beats in new snow. I write this like I know from experience, but I don't. Thanks to L.M. Montgomery, Louisa May Alcott, Charles Dickens and a very vivid and romantic imagination I can tell you all about it though.

What about skating on a frozen pond? Or sledding down a hill?

 

The ultimate romantic picture that most everyone I know secretly treasures is this one:

Seriously...I'm not kidding. I'm a child again so excited that I can hardly breathe with butterflies in my stomach and dreams that can be real.

One of the best parts of winter is dressing for it. Sweaters, scarves, boots, fluffy socks, fun hats, colorful gloves, wool, down, cashmere...red, green gold, blue...ahhh. Winter phrases: Snuggley soft, Cuddle up, Hot Chocolate anyone?...all so friendly and generous. Yes, cold is my choice. Granted, I have central heat and double paned windows and enough quilts to keep the neighborhood warm. I don't have to chop wood, or light the stove first thing in the morning, or send my husband out into the cold to shoot dinner. And I'm grateful for that. Very Grateful. I can love my snow, and my winter in comfort so that the romance is still alive.

I think it's time to make some tea and sip it from my red china teacup. I wonder if I have a lemon...