When you are a child snow is magical and fun. As a adult, snow loses that and becomes inconvenience. The simple tasks became almost trial like with everyone battling to win. These thoughts came to me as I watched from my living room window. The snowflakes was coming down heavily once again and laying a top of the inches deep snow that had already fallen.
I heard my boyfriend coming downstairs and I walked out into the hallway to meet him.
‘Let’s go build a snowman in the garden,’ I said.
He stared blankly at me. His mind processing what I’d just said and checking it was correct.
I started grabbing my coat and boots.
‘Why?’ he asked.
I shrugged, ‘I just fancy it. Remember when you were a kid and it snowed? It was a thing you always did alongside snowball fights and sledging.’
‘Sure,’ he said, though his voice was still uncertain.
We dressed and headed outside. The snow fell and melted on us. I felt an icy breeze on my face. Leaving deep footprints, we circled the garden and began building a large ball of snow.
Slowly, that magic of childhood came back to me.
(Inspired by; https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2018/03/04/sunday-photo-fiction-march-4th-2018/ with thanks).
The Story Files 