When we woke up this morning, a fine dusting of snow was starting to settle on the ground and plump, fluffy snowflakes were raining down from the muted grey sky.
Snow always makes me happy. There’s something magical about all that white drifting down slowly and falling softly, silently on the ground.
I’m an island girl. I’m all about ocean, sunshine and coconut trees. To be honest, there was a time in my life when I never would have imagined that I would one day see snow. Pine trees and snow-capped peaks just aren’t in my DNA. Jungle juice is in my DNA. And yet, here we are.
I was 15 when I saw snow for the first time. Mum’s boyfriend at the time took us to Perisher Valley for the weekend. It was pretty cool, but to be honest I wasn’t that wrapped. There was a fair bit of snow on the ground, which was lovely, and it was cold enough that I almost got frostbite on my arse (ouch to sleepless nights from burning buttocks), but the snow that was on the slopes that time was produced by machines. I never actually saw snow fall from the sky.
Not until I was 24 and living in London. Everyone had told me that I would likely never see snow in London, because the city generated too much heat (yeah right, it snows in NYC, doesn’t it??). I saw ice and hated that – it’s sly and evil.
But one morning, walking to the bus stop on my way to work, the air felt different. I had not experienced this before. Everything seemed muffled and hushed, surreal and still.
And then the tiniest little snowflakes started falling from the sky. I couldn’t believe it. I turned to my boyfriend and asked “Is it snowing? Is this snow?!”
Sensing my excitement, he looked at me with a huge smile and nodded.
I was giddy with happiness. It was so beautiful. I stretched my arms and hands out, lifted my face to the sky and opened my mouth to feel the flakes melt on my tongue and I was so overcome with the magic of it all that I had tears running down my face.
You might think that’s insane; I don’t care.
The flakes disappeared as quickly as they’d appeared, but that memory of my first snowfall will stay with me forever. Little did I know that one day just a few short years away I’d be heading for a REAL snow experience. The snow Big League, if you will: Canada.
See, my lovely: you just never bloody know where life’s going to take you, especially if you’re open to following its whims