When I left Montana, I swore that I wouldn't care if I never saw snow again. I figured if I didn't have the money to ski on it several times a week, it was more trouble than it was worth. And so I left to greener pastures, literally. And I didn't miss it for years....
....and then something started creeping up on me. A nostalgia as soft as the snowflakes. And, as we've had a dusting of snow over the last few days, I've spent much of my time wandering the streets, remembering how quieting the fall of billowy flakes can be to a restless spirit; how much I enjoy the sting of chilled cheeks and the delicate crunch underfoot. The delight of standing among snowflakes as they dance and swirl to their own silent music.
Once again, I find this weather magical. Wonders never cease.
As always, love your photos and wit.
ReplyDeleteThose Barbie parts remind me of childhood, Boyd used to string up my dolls and shoot them with BB Guns. Older brothers are awesome.
Let it snow. Glad to see you still enjoy it. I couldn't imagine living a full year without playing in the snow...unless I had waves and a warm beach. Now, where I can experience both within a day or a weekend, that's where I might have to go next.
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