As we approach the Winter solstice ,our part of the country has not received any accumulation of snow. Normally, we would have a blanket of the white stuff by mid-November. It is odd to not see or feel snow underfoot. As kids, we started to sharpen our skates, wax our cross country skis and ready our sleds for the anticipation of a day outdoors. If the snow was the correct consistency, the boys would make a snow fort with several window holes where a barrage of snowballs could be launched at neighbor hood kids or a little sister. I amused myself falling backwards into the fresh snow to make snow angels. By moving my arms in an arch and moving my legs in and out. stepping out of the impression, a perfect angel emerged. I would make several snowballs of different sizes and wedge them together with great wet snow to make mini snowmen. I would decorate them with buttons and ribbons and place them in the freezer. I hoped to keep then until summer. Much to my dismay, they always disappeared. My mother told me that snowmen were not used to being coped up and they escaped in the night. With parts of the country dealing with more than their fair share of snow, it seems silly to long for the white stuff. The sound of crunching under boots, the feel of cold powder and the clean smell after a snowstorm keeps me longing and waiting. So let it snow!
Billowing clouds gather, filled with moisture, they let go.
Snow drifts down to form piles.
Fills cracks on walls.
On roofs of bird feeders and in the squirrel dishes.
All is clean, bright and white.
Carol Farnsworth Copyright 12/17/20