Squishing down the streets with damp toes all soggy from sludge n' slush with my jeans threatening ever treacherously to suddenly fall down around my ankles in a sudden surrender to gravity, I grin.
Snow.
Every time I'm gone, everyone tells me how lucky I am to have missed the cold and tragic icy frozen wasteland of the Canadian winter prairies. And I think to myself,
"Ah, yes."
And I giggle at the poor chill-trembling bastards bumbling about bundled up back home.
And then I come home.
And then it snows.
And instantly I am swept up in the magic and fervor of the first snowfall.
No comments:
Post a Comment