How can anyone forget their first experience of snow? The clean cold smell of the air and the crunch of snow underfoot brings a smile to my face. I become a child when I see the flakes float through the air, excited with the expectancy of a white landscape. There is just something about snow. I remember making snow angels and snowmen, playing for hours until I was soaked through and freezing. It seems to be the only thing on this earth you can build with and still eat.
I think some have grown disillusioned by snow, forgetting how to sit before a window and watch it come down in wonder, peering at each unique flake that lands on the windowsill. To me, its a quiet and reflective thing to watch snow. And the quiet that comes with it. It seems as if the entire world grows still after a snow. And perhaps it is there to teach us how to grow still and quiet as well.