I knew from a young age, I was destined for colder weather. I knew the minute I flew to Latvia for the first time with my choir and all of us stood on the cobblestone street staring into a white sky dotted with snowflakes. All of us having grown up in the desert, naturally we started screaming and laughing with grins plastered on our faces like it was the first time our cheeks knew to scrunch that way. I looked at my best friend through teary eyes only to find the same sobbing grinning face staring back at me. We saw snow in movies, we romanticized coats and scarves and hot chocolate. And to be able to live a life filled with moments you could only dream of as a child is a gift like no other.
I was reassured once again, as a 17 year old who had just moved to Philadelphia. My best friends were convinced enough to wake up at 7am with the promise to witness the first snow. As the sun rolled up, we did just that. Grabbed every warm thing we could find and hopped off into the roads of our college campus. I learned you can’t make a snowman by packing snow into a ball and that it has to be rolled. I experienced the giddy joy of a snowball fight and the numbing sensations your fingers are subjected to after a couple hours of frolicking. I tasted the snow. I cried. We had hot chocolate in a cozy coffee shop.
I don’t think any amount of grey skies, cold inconvenient winter days that come my way will make me see snow any differently. It has brought me nothing but joy. The kind that is born from witnessing something new that you have wished for your whole life. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.
It was cold today. The stark kind of cold that hits your skin and lets you know you’ve indeed entered into the time of year in which leaves will start to change and eventually fall. Leaving my house this morning I found myself plastered with the same kind of grin I wore many moons ago. Scenes of all the autumns and winters that I’ve seen before rushed back into my head and I longed to wrap myself in layers of wool. I long to feel my hair damp from snow and watch the droplets fall off my coat as I take shelter. To scoop the biggest dollop of snow into my mittens and toss them above my head.
I was placed in so many situations I would otherwise not have been in, if not for the snow demanding things to stop working. I’ve met so many people while being stranded in airports because of the snow. Played chess with strangers, went along to a game of pretend to pass the time, ended up sharing a ride with acquaintances, and stayed overnight in a very distant relative’s house because you're stranded in their city.
While I spend all of my time romanticizing things that may otherwise be overlooked, snow seems to be the one thing that romanticizes everything for me. It doesn’t care how inconvenient it is, it simply arrives with an authority it is entitled to, dresses everything up in its beauty and vanishes when it’s time. Whether people let it pass them by, or hate it, or adore it. It arrives all the same. I’m not sure how many winters I have left to experience before I have to move again. So while I’m here, in a place where leaves change color and the air gets colder, I have no intention of letting it pass me by without soaking in every little detail.
Your love of the cold weather has always inspired me! I wish I could have your experience of seeing snow as a child, never seeing it, and then in that moment it is so magical.