"All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible." ~ T. E. Lawrence
As juvenile as it may sound, I have an abiding love for snow days. Just the thought of them makes me smile as I envision cottony flakes falling from the sky.
Part of the magic is their rarity for me. I was home-schooled from ages 8-15. You can imagine how many snow days you get when the furthest you have to commute is from your bed to your desk. However, my brothers and I got plenty of time to build snowmen and igloos, make no mistake. My childhood is full of fantastic snow memories.
Then, when I was 15, we moved to Dutch Harbor, Alaska where I attended public school. You’d think that in Alaska I would have had snow days as numerous as… well… snowflakes. Not so! The only time I ever heard of my school closing was when the roof of the gymnasium started to cave in from the weight of snowfall. Disappointment. We had some of the greatest snowboarding days right in our own backyard though!
Now I’m 24, part of the workforce, and work for a company that has rarely shut its doors for the weather. I love my job. Although I’m always thrilled to have a bona fide snow day now and again. We’ve have a bit of wintery goodness in my little corner of Washington this past week so Wednesday ended up being a snow day. Glory, hallelujah! It was grand!
Whiteout conditions blocked out the window views while the wind whistled and whipped around the house. I hung out with BF all day (he’s a far superior snow driver to me). In the morning we enjoyed coffee and chai tea, respectively. I soon found a cozy chair and blanket so curled up with a good book. My kind of snow day!
That evening we cooked up some feisty fajitas! I’ll have to post the recipe another time to share. I grew up eating Mexican cuisine and it’s become my comfort food – perfect for a chilly day.
BF drove me back home that night. I live at the top of a rather steep and long hill so we decided to walk the remaining half mile to my house. Walking in the snow at night is phenomenal. The crisp crunch underfoot, branches bowing with their fluffy white burdens, and the crispness of each chill breath invigorates. We trudged silently along hand in hand, awestruck at the wintery bliss that surrounded us. That walk was restorative, a chance to think on and releases stresses and concerns – to feel clean and renewed.
Safely home and cozy again, it was time to delve into my book with a glass of cabernet in hand. Bring on the snow!