Snow day

The snow fell in great white waves making the world a cottonball wonderland today, and I thought of them. My nieces, bundled to their chins in chunky snow suits. Caitlyn, being the oldest, would be running (or trying to) into the drifts, and falling down only to get back up and do it again. Madelyn, being only six months old, would be in her daddy's arms watching in amazement how the flakes fell crazily from the sky.

That's an amazing sight when you're a kid staring into up into the cloud-filled sky and being attacked by all those crisp snowflakes. Tracking one from the moment I could see it clearly until it hit my face was impossible. Every one looked just like the others while the wind mingled them together in a great gyrating dance until I became dizzy. That's when I closed my eyes and stuck out my tongue. Millions of snowflakes would land and melt on my cheeks and forehead seeming to have the uncanny ability to avoid my mouth. Inevitably, one--then another and another--hit and melted instantaneously, giving of their lives so I could enjoy a very slow and glorious drink of pure water. What an amazing feeling.

Then searching to find that pristine spot of land where the snow hadn't been marred at all by old snow piles underneath it or some sort of animal traipsing across it. There is where I perfected the art of catapulting myself into the air, spread eagled and fully extended with my backside to the Earth, to create the best snow angel ever! Snow angels were never really good enough for me if I could see the footprints leading up to the bottom of her skirt. The trick wasn't in getting into the spot, it was getting out of the angel form without disturbing the lines or the depth. I don't know if I ever did make the perfect angel.

On this wintry day from my adult vantage point, to be in that snowsuit--straining to move, wondering how to get out of it fast enough to make it to the bathroom--would be the most luxurious place. I don't envy my niece for her ability to be out there. I throw on my boots, throw off my age, and plop down next to her--fanning my arms and legs still working on that perfect angel.