There's the practical reason: It's damn cold. Little pieces of ice are falling from the sky and it tickles when they touch my skin. My nose is red from sniffling and sneezing and my eyes can barely stay open (or dry) in the wild winter freeze.
But there's also the magic of experiencing something you've only heard about or seen in the movies. And snow...snow itself is so enchanting, the way it paints the world bright and brings with it a crispness to the air.
The first time I saw snow was in Long Island, New York. I had lived in India, Saudi Arabia, and Houston and I'd never seen it in my life. I always dreamed of having a snow-capped holiday season.
I remember waking up to the most beautiful sight outside my window. I stumbled out of bed to get my coat, gloves and hat and ran to my brother and parents. We were all so excited to get out.
Bundled up, we excitedly stepped outside and jumped up and down on the soft snow. Our rental home had a massive backyard with a small hill perfect for amateur sledding. We grabbed a sled from the tool shed and pretended to know what we were doing. We didn't. There may have been an injury or two.
Then came the snow angels and snowmen. And a classic Pirani snowball fight.
I think my dad even tried to make mango juice sno-cones that day, too.
It was one of my favorite days as a kid.
The #100daychallenge writing series is my way of holding my right brain accountable for all the brain fog in hopes that I'll learn to creatively organize my thoughts and learn something(s) new about myself in the process. The challenge includes prompts from the San Francisco Writers' Grotto's 642 Things to Write About. You can also follow my #100daychallenge here.