The children, Mouse especially, are extremely but extremely fond of snow. Mouse always says this is because he was born in the winter, and this afternoon while I endured a scale and clean in the dental clinic, he and his sister expounded on their theory to the dentist. Last night as he got ready for bed, I overheard him singing to himself, as he watched the snow falling outside his window, "I'm so happy to be alive! I'm so happy to be alive!" and then he paused and said very seriously to himself, "Of course you are, Mousie: it's better than being dead. You can't go sledding if you're dead." First thing this morning, they were outside - Kitten first because Mouse was sulking since, alive or dead, there wasn't enough snow for sledding but then she was swiftly joined by her brother for an early play in the cold grey light of early morning.
Later on, after morning school, both of them went out again, making snowmen, trying to taste snowflakes, creating snow chairs, and in my Kitten's case, sweeping at the snow like Mrs Thaw in the book, "Ollie's Ski Trip". Mouse asked me, "Is there enough snow to spare if I am catching it and eating it?" and there surely was as it kept falling steadily for a good few hours. It did our hearts good to stand at the window, watching them playing so enthusiastically and actively.
There's something so magical about snow, and how it transforms a place. The city was quieter than usual, with people staying at home, and what cars were about moving at a walking pace over blanketed roads. Everything looked so much more lovely and mysterious with so much hidden beneath snow and the bare branches blooming with snow blossoms.
I don't think there is much that is cosier than watching snow fall from the warmth and comfort of home. I could stand watching the hypnotic descent of snow for hours. The big soft downy flakes were so beautiful today.
And if there is anything cosier it is that moment when you have peeled off wet things, snuggled up in pyjamas, pulled out the quilts and blankets, and lit a fire. This afternoon Oz lit a beautiful fire for us and the children sprawled by the hearth like dogs, and I read "Mary Poppins in the Kitchen" while the fire purred and cracked. It's been such a treasure of a day and we are thankful for it from the bottom of our hearts.