Snow Wonder

There is something mystical about snow. It captivates me. I am hypnotized by watching the falling flakes. While in a trance I am hyper-aware of the shrills of laughter emanating from outside.

"Snow day, snow day", the children shout with joy. As I peer out the window I spot them catching morsels on their tongues. Their heads roll back with eyes to the sky, arms outstretched as if they were falling flakes. I continue to watch them romping about the snow kicking up a wake of white dust. Then initiating bouts of balled war. Each of them stirring, maintaining momentum. Suddenly they stop, frozen their tracks. Dizzy and exhausted they each collapse to sweep snow angels into the ground. Their celebration ceases as the aroma of hot cocoa beckons their red running noses back inside.

I've noticed snow's magic has a queer modus operandi. Its first victims are children and animals promptly follow. Elvis tentatively approached the queer bright powder. He cautiously dipped his toe in the forgien substance. Deeming the frozen blanket benign, he plunged, pounced, and pranced about the yard. Turning the tables on Jack Frost by nipping at his nose.

Not a moment later the snowy spirit had me in a choke hold. I scoop a handful of ice in my hands and pack it into a sphere. "Elvis! Elvis, go get it!", I yelled provoking him to chase after the hurled snowball. It burst into bits as it smashed on the slick road.

I feel the chilly air permeating my lungs. My throat starts to sting. My eyes begin to water. My excitement skids to a halt. I beckon Elvis inside so I can mooch from his warmth.

The transition from snow fun to no fun didn't stop there...The downfall became an oppressive house arrest.