It's snowing outside, and I'm grateful for the moisture. My hands are dry and almost cracked. The grass is yellow, and everything is dry. We have needed the revitalization the snow will bring. Yet I still dream of warm summer and spring days where I can go outside, where cold is just an unpleasant memory.
Provo has mixed up winter and spring. The weather has been so pleasant these past few weeks.I have taken naps and worked on homework outside in the sun. Everything was bright and decidedly not icy. And yet, the past few days, it has been overcast. Snow falls intermittently throughout the day, but doesn't stick for long.
What is it about snow that makes us perceive it as so magical? Even as someone who dislikes cold and winter, I still look at snow with wonder. It may create dangerously icy roads and inconvenient blockades, but at least it's pretty right? It falls from the sky in thick white flakes, like meteorological dandruff. The gentle dance of the ice as it descends creates a sort of swirl. It reminds me of Christmas, of fun, and stories of magic- but why? Is it because it is so pure and white, because of it's sparkling refraction of sunlight? Is it the slow fall from the clouds? Is it just memories, of snowmen and snowball fights? Why is snow so magical?
Hopefully my windshield doesn't freeze over.
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