I went to work in the snow this morning. It wasn’t a major storm, as the snow melted as soon as it hit the ground, but it did coat cars and the trees. I did have to put my hat on, puffy coat and snow boots (more for aesthetic than need) to commute across the city.
Having grown up in Texas, snow was such a rare and life disrupting event. In New York, it takes a blizzard to shut the City down. In Texas, everything comes to a halt if it starts snowing, regardless if it sticks or not.
The first time I saw snow was when I was five or six. I had gone to bed, and in the morning, my mother got me up, saying that she had a surprise for me. She took me to the sliding glass door that opened to the back yard. She had the curtain drawn, and made me stand in front of it. I remember being so sleepy confused as to what was happening. Then she pulled the curtain with a whoosh, and I saw the perfect white of snow covering our bare rectangled backyard. I just had to go out in it, and she dressed me and let me run free. I made a snowman, and threw snowballs at the fence and over it. Snow angels and just stomping around in it. I’m 40 years old, and snow is still a treat to me.