Usually when Mia waltzes into my room at 6:35 a.m., I am none too pleased and tell her to go back to her room until the sun is up (which generally happens around 7:00 a.m. this time of year in Colorado).
But on this day, when she woke me with her tip-toeing – which is more akin to stomping, as it were – I sat up, immediately looked out my window and smiled. I jumped out of bed (a rarity) and said with enthusiasm, “Mia, come here!” as I walked to the window.
Our first snow of the fall season had come, which incidentally was our first snowfall as Colorado residents, and the first snow that Mia and Lincoln would ever experience. It covered the rooftops, the trees and the cars on the street and was coming down in big, beautiful flakes. I was elated to show Mia something she had never seen before, and something I hadn’t experienced in many years. The fact that it was happening at dawn made it all the more magnificent.
We went downstairs to look out on our patio, only to find everything covered with a soft, white layer. It was decided quickly. We forewent our usual morning routine; getting the always-requested juice for each child, pouring bowls of cereal, turning on cartoons, making mommy coffee, watching the news… Instead, we got Lincoln up, quickly put on some coats, boots, gloves and hats, and went out onto the patio to investigate.
I hadn’t actually expected it to snow; years of living in Southern California had poisoned my mind to thinking “that only happens in the mountains.” But now we live above 5,000 feet and I realized that although it had been in the 70s the day before, I should have believed the weatherman when he said snow was coming.
And now, at the very start of fall, on a very random day, the snow had come unexpectedly and caught me unawares.
Lincoln doesn’t own boots or a heavy coat. I managed to find some random gloves for each child somewhere in their dresser drawers. I covered their pajamas with the warmest jackets I could find, socks, boots (shoes for Lincoln) and sent them out. Due to my skepticism, I also didn’t cover my plants… my mums have seen better days.
The kids were in awe, and although confused, they laughed as they walked on the fresh snow and picked up handfuls of it. Mia immediately began throwing snowballs at me (she must have learned that on TV) and I showed her how delicious fresh snow was to eat. I showed Lincoln his footsteps and watched him look around, trying to figure it all out.
The sun was almost up and the snow continued to fall and it was deathly quiet (most likely because everyone was still asleep, except for our crazy family who was outside laughing and making all kinds of noise). It was a magical moment. The only thing that would have made it better would have been if my husband was there; unfortunately he was out of town for work and we were both sad that he missed the kids’ first experience in the snow.
What is it about snowfall that is so exciting and breathtaking? Why did I feel like a 5-year-old that morning running to the window to see if it had, indeed, snowed? Even though I was skeptical, I secretly hoped I would look outside and see it falling. I’d like to think that no matter how old you are, the beauty of snowfall is not lost.
Perhaps I will grow tired of it. Perhaps I’ll get lost in the annoyance of the cold, the ice, the slippery roads, the frosted windshields, the process of bundling and unbundling the children, the extra time it takes to go grocery shopping and to drop Mia off at school. Perhaps. But I hope that no matter how annoying it becomes to live with, I can still stop and see the beauty in it.
Just in case, I am holding that quiet morning with my kids close to my heart as another first that we all experienced together.
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Read more posts in the “A Californian in Colorado” series here