Inches of Memory

A lot of people experienced inches of snow today.  It was in the 60s and 70s yesterday, and today was so cold it froze people’s mornings and delayed their office coffees from being stirred.  I was not one of those people.  My morning began facing flurries that didn’t stick and to-dos that got done.

I used to live in a few places that hardly snowed.  Having grown up around the stuff, it was a nice change.  Now I’m back  in a location that previously got a lot of snow, although not this winter, now I miss it.  Not the shoveling, not the hours of sweating a damp layer under my winter coat.  I miss the memory of snow.

It sparks my childhood memories of three layers of socks to match three hours of sledding.  Of miles walking back up hills after repeatedly sliding down them into the overgrown parts of another property.  Even of burning taste buds on my first sip of hot carob, or hot chocolate at my friend’s house.

My memory of snow is of the fun, light snow I played in, and less the heavy, wet snow I shoveled.  I wanted snow today because I wanted to watch the adults in my city be reminded to take some time and play.  To go outside and adventure.  To meet other adults and join in on their fun – much like we used to do as kids.

May you find your childlike wonder and wander towards it.


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