Tuesday, 6 January 2009

Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow!

It snowed today. It was what we who grew up in the Rocky Mountains would classify as a ‘skiff’ of snow. But hey...beggars can’t be choosers. We had so much fun. The boys and I got dressed and donned our English-style snow boots, aka Wellies and had a great snowball fight. Granted you had to scrape the snow right off the top of the patio or grass, but it was awesome snow ball snow! We were soaked and tired and hungry by the time we came in and about halfway through oatmeal prep Bridger shouted, “WHOA!!! Look, look, look! It’s snowing again!” Big, huge, gorgeous flakes. I love that. I can’t begin to describe how much good it did my soul just to watch those flakes accumulate on the branches.

I have been longing for snow. Aching for it. Watching the facebook status updates on all the snow dumping in the US with nothing short of lust. I want to go up to Winter Park. To make the curvy trip up the mountain with flakes falling from the sky. I want to sled at Cherry Knolls Park. Day after day we landed there last winter. Every single day of the Christmas holiday. It was epic. I want to go to the sledding hill over in DTC. Careen down the hill listening to Bridger just giggle and giggle. Then listen to him brag when we arrive back at the top about what a big boy he is for pulling the sled all the way back up the hill.

He is a boy built for snow. It was so fun to watch he and Caid just delight in it today. Funny thing is, late last night Bridger went outside and came in saying, “It smells like snow out there.” What six year old do you know who can identify the upcoming precipitation by the way it smells?! I thought for sure it was simply wishful thinking. He and his dad have been playing quite a bit of ‘skiing’ lately. They start in the living room and take snow cats or helicopters or snowmobiles up to the top of the mountain. Then they strap their skis to their backs in the entryway and troop up the stairs. After a long hike they strap their skis on at the top landing and ‘ski’ down. Usually there’s a wreck or mishap of some kind. Always some trick or another. “Did you see that Dad?!?! I turned all the way around on my skis!”

Whilst Christmas shopping this year it was everything I could do to resist the urge to buy the boys--all three of them--this great little ‘personal sized sled’ I saw at a London outdoorsy shop. They were shaped a lot like a plastic shovel head with a handle. Perfect! But somehow it just seemed like cruel and unusual punishment.

So I longed all Christmas break for the snow. Found myself nearly in tears listening to Bridger play skiing with Scott. Wanted to comfort or console Bridger when he said it smelled like snow, and like a true unbeliever I poo-pooed the hope. But then there was Scotty this morning, waking me up in the wee hours just before he left for the airport. Letting me know it was out there--waiting for us. Calling to us. Snow. Not enough to make snow walls like Caid was planning. Not enough for the snowball maker Bridger got for Christmas last year and was missing today. Just barely enough to make hilariously pitiful snow angels. But plenty to do my heart good. Ah...