Today I was reminded of:
::all the reasons I love snow. Especially the kind of snow we've had falling on our little valley continuously since Tuesday night. The fluffy, soft, feathery, sink-up-to-your-knees-with-every-step-powder kind of snow. (Actually, we're sinking to our thighs now as it's still coming down) Yesterday we played in our own yard, hanging our leftover Christmas tree popcorn strings out for the birds and squirrels, and romping with the neighbor's puppy, but today we ventured out with cousins to the park down the street to sled. And sled. And build a snow fort. And sled some more.
::what snow tastes like. Like water, you say? Au contraire. Snow tastes like the coldest warm and the purest white. Like frozen anticipation and long-ago memories and cloudy sky.
::the way an abundance of snow can bring people together. We live on a somewhat busy street with the majority of the houses being rental duplexes (duplexi?). It's not the most neighborly kind of neighborhood. But snow is magic. It gets neighbors talking to each other as they shovel their driveways, help one another dig out their cars, and keep the sidewalks clear. Cars become few and the middle of the street transforms into a crossroads of children pulling sleds in ecstatic-school's-cancelled-celebration, families on cross-country skis, and friendly dogs jumping in and out of drifts.
Snow changes attitudes from "I just live here" to "We're all in this together."
:: the flush that comes to my cheeks when I come in from a day in the snow...heat that radiates my ears and face and the tingle in my legs and toes that tells me my body has worked hard and breathed deep and is tired but happy.
So (snow) happy.