It snowed here yesterday. October is far too early for snow, in my opinion. If you ask me, the first – and last – snowfall should occur on December 24. It should hang around for Christmas, but then it needs to vamoose on December 26 so as not to interfere with my travel plans.
Clearly I live in the wrong state. Sadly, my dreams of wintering somewhere more tropical are not likely to come true any time soon.
This little burst of winter got me thinking, though, about winters past. I didn’t always hate the snow and the cold. When I was a kid, I used to relish them. I loved sledding and ice skating and building snow forts. I loved walking atop the frozen snow in my neighbors’ yards on my way to and from school, my stomach quivering as I wondered how long it would be before I plunged ankle-deep into a frosty hole.