I suppose there is little that might peg you as eye-rollingly boring like talking about the weather might.
And yet, much like The Merchant of Venice’s “truth”: the weather will out.
Around here it has been the type of “too cold” that not only dries and cracks our skin and has us warming the car up for a good ten minutes before getting in it each morning, but the kind of cold that stops snow from packing!
And that is typically the way we know the weather has gotten a bit beyond itself in its coldness -- when you couldn’t pack a snowball to save your life. Not without Rumplestilskin and his straw-to-gold weaving and fluffy-ice-snow packing magical ways. Or, at the very least, with out dumping a cup of water on it first.
Cold cold frozen snow.
Still, there were two times when I really couldn’t complain because . . . everything turned to . . . well . . . magic, I guess.
Perhaps you more northerly folks already know about this light-frozen-snow magic trick?
I was driving home from the kids’ school the first time it happened. The sun was shining (in a way that it can only do on the most clear and frigid of days), and there was a very whispery little breeze that was sending these unpacked, separate little snowy flakes gently all about . . . and they were GLITTERING. Each and every one of them. It was all rather beautifully ethereal.
I told Mike about it (which might have lost me another point in the “fascinating conversationalist” category) but I had to tell someone how otherworldly it all seemed! And, if he didn’t understand then, he got to understand soon enough because it happened again a few days later.
We were up at our little cabin – just lazily waking, wearing slippers, and eating Cap’n Crunch -- when we pulled open some of our east facing blinds and were met with billions of tiny diamonds bouncing about in the air.
It was as if the tiny little flakes – all cold and frozen as they were, and unable to stick to any neighboring flakes – somehow became lighter than air itself and simply began floating about – all sparkles and shimmers, glimmers and winks -- in the early morning sunshine.
The kids oohed and ahhed and rushed from window to window to see if the magic still worked.
There. Was that so bad? I will try not to mention weather again ‘til at least spring. Though I might only try . . . a little tiny bit.
Perhaps it has nothing to do with weather. (Though I must say, it seems those birds might have considered hopping on the migration bandwagon several months ago -- before the weather became so . . . fowl. Hahhahohoho. I couldn’t resist). But it was another bit of looking-out-the-window excitement for the kids (which might be the only type of excitement they will be getting for awhile if these temperatures hold). It was equal parts terrifying and fascinating. And the picture doesn’t even do it justice. There were SWARMS of them EVERYWHERE. Cars were inching along, kids were opening windows to take pictures . . . (alright, just my kids. . . . Still . . .).
I tricked. Nothing to do with the weather.