We woke up Monday morning to a wonderland of snow. The sun was sparkling and the trees were frosted in white. My son rolled out of bed at 8 AM, pulled on his snow pants and ran out the door to play. I clicked on Holly’s leash, grabbed the camera and soon followed him. There was no giddy anticipation of school closing because of the snow since there was already a scheduled holiday for President’s Day. Nonetheless, the thrill remained. I still had to go to work, but I work from home, and there was time for a short walk. It was the perfect snow: the roads were mostly clear but there was just enough for sledding, snowballs, snowmen, and some winter cheer.
The quiet stillness of the morning soon gave way to the sounds of neighborhood children romping and hollering in the snow. There was snowboarding, giant snowballs, and an impressive igloo smartly constructed in the deep shade along the side of a house to prevent premature melting. My son Max and his buddies played outside the entire day, with just a few short breaks for lunch and hot chocolate. While we have experienced some inconvenient blizzards over the years, we usually only get a few light snow days each winter, so it always feels special. While enjoying the beauty of the snow and the sounds of children playing, I indulged in a few fond memories of winters past: