Kelsey+Coulter+2014

SNOW

While snow may be one of the most cliché topics to write about, but too bad because this whole piece is about snow and the utter happiness it brings to me. Snow does to me what Santa Claus does to small children. A certain feeling overcomes me as soon as I see snowflakes on any of my three weather apps on my IPhone. This feeling is one of such joy that I can’t help but smile to myself and sometimes make exuberant cheers. Some snow-haters enjoy using the term “annoying” or “hassle” to describe my beloved white flakes. However, there is nothing more incredible in nature than millions of uniquely patterned chilly rain drops falling to the Earth. I do not understand how anyone could possibly detest snow or want to live somewhere without snow. The best kind of snow storm comes on a cold winter night when the world becomes quiet in anticipation of the first flurries. The white flakes fall bright against the backdrop of the black night.

Just the other day, the snow began to descend on Bridgewater at around 9:00 P.M. The Christmas lights on my house we in full glow and the snow gently cascaded over the green wreaths and trees. I told my mom I’d be back in a second and went to the laundry room to grab my rain boots. I proceeded out the front door and my down my snow-sprinkled driveway. I took two steps onto Killarney Street and then turned around to face my house square on. It was probably good that it was night time and no one could see me because I probably looked like a five year old who had just seen Rudolph fly through the air. I smiled a large, adolescent smile and listened to the sweet nothingness. There is just something about a silent night, white snow, and beaming Christmas lights. I let the snow coat my head and then finally went back inside. At that moment, I had never felt so calm in my entire life.

Many people worry about wrinkles and joint aches as they grow older. However, my greatest fear is falling out of love with snow. I don’t want to forget or stop appreciating Mother Nature’s greatest treasure. Our hearts are dead if we stop throwing snow balls or making snow angels. My goal is to be building a snowman with my grandchildren when I am eighty-six years old. This is the perfect opportunity to be talking about since a large storm is only hours away. Some may call my hourly checking of the weather obsessive and they would in fact be correct. It is my duty as an avid snow-lover to know the status of the storm and know the precise timing and amount expected. I am excited to put my pajamas on inside out and wake up to a beautiful white carpet draped over my cul-de-sac. I only dread the snow plows ruining the spirit and turning the glistening street into depressing black asphalt once again. Spoons under your pillows everyone, it’s snow day time.