No matter how many times it happens, the first snow fall brings back an intense memory of my very first snowfall in Canada. I was 7, we had just moved back to Canada. My Mother had bought me snow pants, jacket, hat, mitts, scarf and big winter boots. I was ecstatic and a little scared.
I woke up, to snow falling at a rapid rate. My eyes popped out of my head, I had never seen something so beautiful, so magical. The blanket of snow made everything look like fairy land. I rand downstairs, begged my Mother if I could go outside. I put on all the clothing, ran outside and stood in the middle of our backyard. I looked up. The snowflakes gently kissed my cheeks with a coolness I had never experienced before. I made foot prints, I lay in the snow to make angels.
After 15 minutes, my running around made me hot. My chest felt like it was tightening up. My scarf and had made my head itch, and my blood boil. The smell of the wool getting wet, and slightly sweaty made me gag. My boots became heavy, and began to hurt my hips from the weight.
I went back inside, stripped all the clothes off, sat down and asked “when does this stuff melt?”
I was not pleased to learn that winter lasted so long. So it began, my love hate relationship with winter. I like it for 15 minutes. Then it is game over.
Have a great day everyone,