First flurries

I first noticed them early this morning. Little bits of something glittery swirling through the air. At first, I thought idly that there was an awful lot of pollen floating about. (Okay, yes ... I am from the south.) Later, walking through a parking lot, I realized that it was snow. Our first flurry this season.

It was enough to make me stop. In the middle of the parking lot. And simply watch the tiny sparkles flutter and swirl.

Apparently one New England winter didn't freeze away this sense of childlike wonder at snow. Wherever I've lived...in New Orleans and in Austin...snow was a wondrous, fleeting, magical thing. Normal life skidded to a stop as soon as the snow started to drift down. Never mind if it was only a few snowflakes that vanished as soon as they hit the ground. Adults and children alike would bundle up and head outside to see the snow. We'd gaze at the skies and hold out gloved hands, hoping to catch a snowflake.

Tonight, the flurries started again, and my children rushed outside to see. They were singing, "It's snowing! It's snowing!" and making plans for snow angels and snow forts and skiing. I could just see the visions of hot cocoa and snowmen and sledding dancing in their heads.

Welcome to the season.