The Magic of Snow

I awake to a ballet on a stage of white: forms leaping and twirling in their graceful dance upon drifts of air. Downy flakes drift from the sky, growing heavy under a warmth that threatens to transform their crystalline bodies into something infinitely more liquid.

I come out and pause a moment in reflection of snowflakes once captured on my tongue.  A random thought of tasting one again comes and passes as I move to take shelter in  my car, shaking the stowaway flakes from my hair and watching as they melt before they can hit the floor.

I drive; a reluctant participant in this impromptu third act on the stage of winter, and I wonder when did I stumble from childhood into this person I have become.

I have heard the sledders at night on the hill; their shrieks and laughter carry over the hush of snow, but I do not think to join them.  I think only of the warmth of my four walls and blankets of wool rather than the chilly white I once plunged into making angels of snow upon the lawn. I have grown cautious where once I would have roamed unfettered by the thought of wet socks and a runny nose.

When did I let go of childish adventures I wonder.  When did I trade youthful exuberance for adult restraint?
Did it pass while I slept?  Was it wished away with the blowing out of candles on a birthday long past? Or is it the result of some changeling being left in my place while I and those around me failed to notice.

I may still dream, but I have forgotten how to play, and find myself the poorer in soul for it.

I pull up to work, my driving done for the moment.  I look up at the flakes still swirling down and smile as they dance around as if enticing me to join them.  I hesitate a moment before thrusting my arms out and twirling; I open my mouth and sample the first snowflake in what seems a lifetime.  Its chill on the tongue passes quickly, but it tastes as sweet as they did long ago.

I lose myself for that moment and simply thrill at the scent of snow.

A passing car honks, bringing me from my play I allow myself a few more twirls before gathering up my things and making my way indoors.

Maybe I am not as lost as I thought after all.

Bonus!  As this blog is taken from word inspirations written by my brother, I thought I would share his own little thought on winter in here.