Slice of Life Tuesdays, brought to you by Two Writing Teachers
Our first real snow fell this weekend, beginning on Friday with a bit of a break on Saturday and then back again early Sunday morning and on and off for the whole day. I was able to enjoy all of it without frayed nerves because I didn’t have to drive. I could just grab my camera and document it from the window, from the porch, in my PJ’s and slippers, on a walk in Nyack. This is my relationship with snow in 2008, but that’s not how it was in my past.
As a kid growing up in the Catskills snow was my best friend. I think I loved it more than the heat of summer. Snowfall created the excitement of free days from school, often arriving in the middle of the night, a gift to wake up to. My parents were strict about bedtime but the house woke up early and we were up as the daylight uncovered the white blanket at our door with a fresh world to create with news of a SNOW DAY. A bit of breakfast, a shower. a layer of water-proof play clothes, and then we were free to run wild on our fresh canvas, sculpting snow creatures, forts, constructing a fantasy world.
My mom watched at the window. I felt sorry for her, but knew she would call us back inside at just the right moment, for tomato soup, just what a mom should do.
As I return back to 2008, I realize that I didn’t have to feel sorry for her. She enjoyed watching as much as I enjoy documenting my neighbors romping in the white, although they don’t seem to be playing in this snowfall.