Call me a kid. But tonight as I strolled outside to pick up some items for dinner, a soft flurry of snow began falling from the sky, and I shrieked with joy:
“It’s snowing snow!” I danced and skipped across the street and sidewalk. I stuck my tongue out to catch a flake. I did a ballerina spin. It was bliss.
As a girl who grew up in California, where my family had to drive 5 hours to find some winter snow, I always get giddy when I see a flurry of white flakes. My husband, who grew up playing ice hockey and grimacing at the usual very very white Christmases, is always amused by my fondness for snow.
I couldn’t wait to get back inside, make some hot beverage and watch the snow drift down to the black NYC streets, bouncing off the glowing windshields of the yellow cabs speeding by. Unfortunately, by the time we got home the snowfall had ended.
My Big Plan
So I saw this photo of a friend laying smack down on his back on a fluffy layer of fresh fallen snow. He had just made a snow angel and had a huge smile on his face. It gave me a goal for the season. I want that shot. I want a photo of me and my husband (if he will humor me) laying smack down in the snow, snow angels and all, big fat giggling smiles on our faces.
If I get the perfect shot, I just may share.
Sunday calls for snow. I’m smiling now.
photo above: ICELAND
