Winter Beauty

I glanced outside, and it was snowing. I had to stop and think about what I was looking at; after all, wasn’t it yesterday that I was riding my bike through the neighborhood on a warm summer evening? The time had gone too fast, and I was not ready to face what was quickly approaching: winter.

As I gazed out the window, my kids ran up and put their little noses and hands against the glass. I looked down at them and saw their eyes light up, eager with anticipation for the coming season. Of course, to them, snow is a good thing. It is a harbinger of Christmas, the beginnings of a new outdoor playground and, on occasion, even a handy way to be able to skip a day of school.

But for me, it’s a totally different animal. The first things that came to my mind were slippery roads, heavy traffic and mandatory shoveling duty.

 “Mom, isn’t it beautiful?” my oldest son asked.

I looked over at him, and suddenly, I was seven again. I remembered feeling exactly the way he felt at that moment, and found myself wondering how I had let the magic of snow escape me. Sure, there were some unpleasant duties associated with it. But there was also something quite stunning about a world blanketed in white.

“It sure is,” I responded.

Ten minutes later, the snow stopped and the sun returned for an encore. It had just been a tease of winter, and at that moment, I was grateful that was all it had been. But I couldn’t help but notice that the kid inside of me was actually kind of excited for our first real snow...as long as it doesn’t show up for a few more weeks.