Winter

I love winter. Once when I was about nine years old we got a big snow (a big snow for this area is about a foot of snow). Some of my parents’ friends had been staying at our house, and they had boys who were about my age. We got to play in the snow for two or three days, as school had been canceled. I had a friend in our neighborhood named Sam. We sledded down the hill and built a snowman. I miss that time.

It usually only comes a good snow here during the first two weeks of January. I recall it snowing lightly around my birthday when I was in the hospital in 2021. My birthday is February 17, but that seems unusual (if I remember correctly). Usually it snows in January. 

A couple of years ago I took a trip to Colorado with my family in late December. There was about two feet of snow on the ground. We went to Aspen. I got to visit an art museum and a cool bookstore. Winter always brings back memories like these. It seems cozy and less rushed.

I look forward to it.

Another time it snowed about six inches, and I remember seeing lightening in the snowstorm. That time we made a medium-sized snowman.