Relative Something

It’s no surprise that we got a little dusting overnight. We were well warned of the possibility. That first snow really has a lot of impact. As I remember childhood, there was always a wallop of excitement connected with it. As an adult, I tend to find myself more often surrounded by those who express a lot less appreciation for the onset of our snow season. I still feel the child-like glee over the white stuff.

It was usually the ski bums who displayed the “Think Snow!” buttons or bumper stickers (or custom denim shirts embroidered by their sister), but I never did any downhill skiing. It didn’t matter; I loved everything else about winter and always felt, the more snow, the better. Over the years it has become apparent to me that the primary people who complain about winter, do so because the only experience they have with snow is trying to drive in it or shovel the stuff so they can drive in it.

Get out and play in it like we did when we were kids and you can realize, again, that vital energy of excitement that is unleashed when flakes start falling.