A little known fact about me is I love snow.
You probably know by now my love for classic literature and my addictive need for chocolate, but you may not realize my utter fascination with the white stuff that comes from the sky.
I eagerly await the season that brings this particular precipitation. When my husband and I first came to southern Colorado, we were utterly dumbfounded when it started snowing near the end of September. We had never seen the like. Snow in September? Crazy, but I was still entranced.
I hate the cold, but I realize that without it, there would not be the heavenly frozen flakes falling quietly and gently to the ground.
When the snow falls so much that I can't see the ground anymore, I love to go outside and just stand there and listen. It's amazing how quiet it is.
There are no birds singing. The amount of cars going by has slowed down and only occasionally do I hear one slashing down the road. The wind has died down and all is still.
All but remains is the gently falling snow and the mountain of the wet, fluffy stuff growing up to my knees.
The time has come to fall backward and make snow angels, build snowmen, and sled down the hill. The quiet is broken by the screams of laughter coming from my children as they throw snowballs at each other and their "outraged" mother.
After some time, we begin to tire. It is time to go inside to the warmth of the house and hot chocolate. Time for a good book and an afghan thrown across my shoulders. Time to look out the window from my nice, cozy chair and smile at the white beauty.
Yes. I love the snow and I look forward to it.
You probably know by now my love for classic literature and my addictive need for chocolate, but you may not realize my utter fascination with the white stuff that comes from the sky.
I eagerly await the season that brings this particular precipitation. When my husband and I first came to southern Colorado, we were utterly dumbfounded when it started snowing near the end of September. We had never seen the like. Snow in September? Crazy, but I was still entranced.
I hate the cold, but I realize that without it, there would not be the heavenly frozen flakes falling quietly and gently to the ground.
When the snow falls so much that I can't see the ground anymore, I love to go outside and just stand there and listen. It's amazing how quiet it is.
There are no birds singing. The amount of cars going by has slowed down and only occasionally do I hear one slashing down the road. The wind has died down and all is still.
All but remains is the gently falling snow and the mountain of the wet, fluffy stuff growing up to my knees.
The time has come to fall backward and make snow angels, build snowmen, and sled down the hill. The quiet is broken by the screams of laughter coming from my children as they throw snowballs at each other and their "outraged" mother.
After some time, we begin to tire. It is time to go inside to the warmth of the house and hot chocolate. Time for a good book and an afghan thrown across my shoulders. Time to look out the window from my nice, cozy chair and smile at the white beauty.
Yes. I love the snow and I look forward to it.
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