Snow Day

When I was growing up there was nothing like waking up in the morning and finding a fresh blanket of snow outside.  The way the snow transformed the everyday scenery in my own backyard was absolutely amazing to me.  As corny as it sounds, the way the snow sparkled before my young eyes and the feeling I got when I was walking in snow that no one had ever set foot on before was magical.  Some of my most vivid childhood memories were from snow days.

As time has progressed my attitude towards snow has changed.  Instead of eagerly anticipating a morning of waking up to snow, I find myself hoping that the weatherman had it wrong and that by some miracle the storm passed without dropping a flake.  Instead of hurriedly throwing on snow clothes to spend hours literally relishing in my time to play in the snow, I find myself grudgingly throwing on boots and gloves to dig out my car.  The inconvenience of snow never crossed my mind as a child, but now it seems to be all I see.

Good old northern Arizona (Flagstaff to be exact) got over a foot of snow this weekend and I'm trying my hardest to ignore the looming hours that I will have to spend shovelling my sidewalk and driveway, the everlasting wetness at the hem of my jeans, and the necessity of wearing snowboots everywhere for the next several days at least.  I will try to honor my 6 year old, 8 year old, even 12 year old self and the love she felt for snow.  Even if I never manage to get out and build a snowman, have a snowball fight or go sledding, I will remind myself of how quiet and peaceful everything is when it's snowing and how small everything seems after it is covered with snow - and also that I may not always live in a place that gets snow and how much I'll miss it then. 

I spent the weekend collecting beautiful images of the winter wonderland I'm living in...