First Snow
The first snow is magic. Absorbing sound and transfixing our senses, we forget the things that were common sense yesterday. We’re bewitched by slush and flurries and clouds. For me, this manifests into obsessive driveway clearing. Snow falls and I’m out with four different shovel types moving it off the driveway. Does our driveway need to be cleared every 30 minutes? No. But don’t tell my bewitched mind because she’s out there clearing and making room for the snow to come. You see, It’s not enough for me to push it off the driveway, I’ve got routes for my snow piles. I know how the snow plow will block us in and like an air traffic control officer, I’m rerouting snow all over my yard. This must be a curious if not obnoxious behavior to my family. In fact, I don’t ask for their help because snow removal is not play time. Every child has made the mistake only once of trying to help mom with the shoveling. Taking creative license with the snow paths and shovels is unacceptable, and will demote you to clearing the deck instead. So if you’re coming out for fun, choose a different place in the yard, kid, and stay off my driveway.
When I was a child, I would wake up to the first snow and the sound of my dad scraping the snow off the driveway. He too had snow routes and passed on this meticulous and ridiculous behavior to me.
Now, I do have fun in the snow. I learned over time how to build snow tunnels, how to turn my face up and enjoy the cool flakes falling, and how to roll up a decent snowman. I enjoy cutting through the snow on my skis, or blazing a trail with my snowshoes. I’m game to complain about the snow lingering or when it gets dirty or heavy or tiresome.
But, I encourage you to stop and acknowledge the first snow and what it does to you. Welcome winter in your own way. How will your play, work, and life change under the snow? What kind of spell does winter put on you? May we all notice and appreciate the joy of the first snow.
Winter is here,
Nikki Sauter