Snow came Tuesday. It always does. I shouldn’t have been surprised. But, somehow, as we were padding our way barefoot across the driveway on Monday night to gather the mailman’s offerings, I thought Old Man Winter may have forgotten Colorado. It seemed Mother Sunshine had found favor with us, kissing away the white flakes of a new season.
Alas, it came. First, pin-sized specks of ice. Then soft, swirling flakes. Snow fell from the sky and I said, “Oh, boy. Here we go.” And my little Alyssa said, “Wow! It’s wonderful!”
Mesmerized by her commitment to the snow globe magic, my heart softened. How can snow be bad when it causes such wide-eyed amazement in this little girl I love? She asked if she could don her boots. I said yes. She ran to the backyard and stomped circular mazes in the sparkling layer that had laid itself upon our grass.
I stood at the window and watched. I stood at the window and smiled. I stood at the window and fell in love with the snow. Which wasn’t much of a leap, considering how much I adore the little girl running through it.
Welcome Winter. We’ve been waiting.