As much as I love the summer sun and warm air, I can't help but get excited when the leaves fall off the trees in late October. I used to complain about the winter as a child because I didn't like the layers required to walk from the house to the car, or how the wind would somehow find a way to freeze my bones. But as I watch the snowflakes fall on this cold December night from the window of my dorm, I am so happy to see my campus covered in snow. I can see the other freshman dorm, lit up like a Christmas tree, and the trees wrapped in blankets of snow. Just looking around, I am mesmerized by the clean look of the snow.
The beauty of the first snow is that it is the first, unmatched by anything else this new winter season. My excitement for the first snow has not changed as I have gotten older. My fascination with the way the snow shapes itself as it falls stays constant throughout the years.
All this being said, did I ever look forward to pushing the snow off my car? Or waiting fifteen minutes for my car to warm up? No, not really. I also did not favor shoveling the driveway, so I was thankful I had three younger brothers who graciously stepped in for me.
Whenever I notice the snowflakes start to fall, I like to sit by my window in my pajamas and stay warm inside to watch the winter picture paint itself. I especially love the snow in December because it puts me in the Christmas spirit! After attempting to make a fire in the fireplace, then giving in and letting my dad successfully make a fire, it would be so ideal to sit next to the warm fire with the television showing a Christmas movie.
This might be an extremely rare and probably the only case where the beauty is on the outside. The importance of the first snow is how simple it is, how it is something pretty to look at. There is no deeper meaning, no "cold weather represents my cold heart" or any other metaphors. My infatuation with the first snow is best showed through a quote from Candace Bushenell.
"Thank goodness for the first snow. It was a reminder - no matter how old you became and how much you'd seen - things could still be new if you were willing to believe they still mattered."
