There’s something so beautiful about a fresh heavy white blanket of snow covering the surface from the grass fields to the cement roads, growing by the second with snowflakes of all shapes and sizes falling down. As a child, it felt magical. The first day of snowfall was always a day for celebration. A day to run outside and look up at the snowflakes trickling down, to roll around on cloud nine creating a snowman to be a friend until it melted away with the sunshine. It was a day to run and play despite the cold air and the numbing fingers – it was a white wonderland filled with magic, joy, and beauty.
As adults, we lose the thrill of the magic in all things. The snow becomes no different. Instead of looking out with pure awe, we look out with disgust and annoyance. We look out irritated by the inconvenience it will cause us for our commute to work, by the disaster of the drivers in the snow, by the cold we are about to embrace bundling up every which way. My quest in changing my outlook on things stuck with me as I looked out the window this morning like a child would, put on a comfy set of clothes for the office and set out forty minutes earlier than I would normally leave with winter boots, mitts, and a hat all ready to embrace the outdoor frenzy.
The zen mode of my happy outlook quickly faded 30 minutes into my commute and I turned into a troll in an instant. This is what you get for having a positive attitude, I told myself with a kick.
Just like that, the sense of magic faded. Just like that, reality kicked in and said, don’t you know the truth about the beauty?
Snow, like most things, as beautiful as it comes unravels eventually. The beautiful and magical snow globe endless with wonder shatters, disappointing you. It’s a deceiving beauty as with most things once more. Beautiful on the surface but as you pick at it, it loses the appeal. As time goes by it reveals it’s flaws. The fresh white blanket becomes yellow and brown wet slush. Snowmen can no longer be made and there are no new snowflakes trickling from above. The brightness vanishes, replaced by dullness. You feel deceived by the beauty that was.
However, also as most things, snow resurfaces its beauty. Soon enough, the snowflakes fall once more and there’s a new brightness. A new moment of awe. Similar to the moments in our lives; the people, the places, the events, the things – they will not always be beautiful and they will not always keep us content. But at some point, in some form, they may do so again.
Magic and beauty. It’s in all things. It comes and goes, but that shouldn’t lessen our hopeful and positive spirits. We hold tight to these things as children and it’s no less important as we become adults. Because it keeps us alive. It keeps us going. It reminds us we live in a beautiful world despite any moment that refutes this. Build a snowman as you would as a child, make it as you please. And as it melts into slush from the beauty of the sunshine, remember that soon enough, you will see him again.