Let me tell you how I feel when it snows. It’s a wonderful experience. Why? It is so beautiful, that’s why!
I grew up in India, and my hometown, Ranchi, is lucky enough to have a chilly cold season, but never any snow. The first time I actually saw snow was when I was around twelve and my parents took us to Manali, a picturesque town on the foothills of the Himalayas, during the summer vacations. It was the perfect family holiday. I guess part of the reason was that my sisters and I hadn’t become monstrous teenagers yet so we didn’t give our parents much of a headache 😉 Since it was summer, there was no snow in the town any more, so we drove up to Rohtang Pass for a day. The snow was one of the highlights of that whole trip.
Today I live in Stockholm, and have seen three winters here, of the white variety, I mean. With the first big snowfall each year, I go back to being an excited twelve-year-old. As fresh snow piles upon every available surface, some weird, warm, fuzzy feeling bubbles in me. My neighbors might be wondering about the crazy woman who smiles at floating snowflakes, turns every now and then to examine her boot marks, walks around drawing faces in the snow, or incessantly clicks pictures of snow-laden random objects. It’s only because she feels so perfectly happy to see this novelty they call snow 🙂