SNOW!

I don't ski.

Only occasionally do I sled or make snowmen.

I'm not a fan of driving in the snow . . . or shoveling it.

So, why do I love it when the snow falls and when the ground is white?

There is just something magical and cozy about the snow. I find it hypnotizing as I watch it float down from the sky. I love that at one moment the flakes are small and come down fast while the next moment those flakes are large and floating. I love watching it turn from rain to snow, the way it did today. Eden and I watched out our deck doors and acted as cheerleaders for the snow. "Come on! you can do it, just a little cooler and you'll be snow. There! you were snow for a moment, but, oh you are back to rain, what? that looks like snow again. Hooray!!!!"

I love how the trees look with new snow on them. The evergreens are flocked and the contrasting white and green is beautiful. I like the bare trees even better though. Yesterday they were naked, their leaves having departed. Today they have a thick blanket of white on every limb. The snow clings to each branch and twig. It should seem precarious (and if you are walking under one, you might agree that it is). Yet, as I look at the snow-covered trees they seem perfect and as though they could never change.

I look out to my deck and see the chairs that should have been put in my garage. Layered on top of each is several inches of fluffy, pure white snow. Seeing it stacked and undisturbed by shovels or wind, it seems pristine and soft. While safely (and warmly) inside my home, the snow seems cozy. I have the perfect excuse to hibernate, warm and protected.

Winter and Christmas songs begin to percolate in my mind and eventually find life on my lips. "Walking in a winter wonderland . . . let it snow, let it snow, let it snow . . . I'm dreaming of a white Christmas . . . snow is falling all around, on the housetops on the ground . . ." Such upbeat music and lyrics can only bring smiles.

Having exorcized the happy music my mind is now free to reflect on other things. Inevitably I think of my ancestors who didn't have strong, thick walls. They didn't have gas heat or a fireplace that went on and off with the flip of a switch. Instead, they lived in drafty cabins and lean-tos. One was among the many who got stuck in terrible snows while crossing the United States to come to Utah. When her rescuers found her she was already suffering from frostbite and hypothermia. One man insisted she run beside his carriage rather than getting into it. She was mad. Later she realized that by getting her heart pumping and elevating her body temperature he had saved her life. Later, they married and became my fourth-great grandparents.

I imagine those grandparents didn't have the same love affair with snow that Eden and I have. But, thinking of them and watching it snow while tucked warmly in my home is all part of my snow experience. Strange that their story has become part of my romantic fascination with snow.

I love snow!

I really need to remove the tags from my trees.

procrastination has kept these chairs on the deck too long.

Margaretta Call

Anson Call