I love snow. On the west coast we certainly don't get a lot of it, so when do it's magical. Growing up when it snowed it was like life as we knew it was over. everything would stop. in elementary school all eyes would be glued to the window - everyone in awe. there was the possibility of there being enough snow to make a snowman or an igloo. there was the chance of a snowball fight and of sledding. and of course there was always the possibility of that elusive snow day. today the world still stops except that the eyes looking out the window are filled with dread at thoughts of how people are going to get home or get to work. reports of snow cause grumbles and a white christmas is no longer looked forward to or hoped for by the adult crowd.
i find it sad that people forget how magical snow used to be - that underneath that inconvenience is perhaps jack frost's way of saying "slow down, remember, reflect." when i moved to Ottawa i left behind my car and facing an east coast winter is not something i was prepared for. but even when i'm trudging through the snow on my walk to or from work, i feel this sense of possibility in the air. that anything could happen and hope still exists for each new day. i can't help but smile while i walk through a world filled with swirling possibilities- the right one might just land on me and allow me to forge a new path through the snow, my footprints the only proof of where i've been.
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