It seems like we've had a lot this winter already, so I wasn't really looking forward to another 6-12" overnight last night. As a child there was delightful anticipation - only good things came from having a snow storm. Sledding or skiing on the hill by our house, snow angels, and snowmen were the order of the day. We dug tunnels in the snow banks, made igloo-like forts and fashioned jumps on the hill to ride our sleds over. School cancellations were a bonus, as was the occasional trip to the tiny little local ski area to get in a few hours on a hill with a lift.
As an adult, there is shoveling, treacherous roads and crazy snow-impeded traffic to take away from the joy. There's cleaning the snow off the car and there's cleaning up the mess from the wet, salty, sandy boots. There's more dread than anticipation. That's how I felt going to sleep last night... dreading all things about the snow that would face me in the morning.
But this morning, as I have my cup of coffee, look through old photos and enjoy the winter wonderland outside my window, I feel a little different. It's so beautiful, pure, soft. I feel peaceful, happy. There is no more of the dread I felt last night. Perhaps I'll go out, take a walk through the yet untouched snow, and make a snow angel.
I wonder, though, will I be able to recapture this feeling when we get the inevitable March snowstorm?