Our first snowfall with the accompanying frigid temperatures brought to mind a movie that I saw a long time ago called Smillia’s Sense of Snow. It was a thriller, a Danish-British film with an ending that had the heroine putting it all together, solving the mystery because of her sense of snow.
With the wonder of Google at our fingertips I asked the information wonder about how many kinds of snow there might be. The answer was a scientific explanation of the composition of snow.
As I read through the pages of descriptions of snow, my mind began to wander and I remember when as a small child, probably kindergarten or first grade, we were bundled up in the middle of a “big flake snow” and taken outside with sheets of black construction paper to catch and to look at the wonder of snowflakes.
I’ll never forget the excitement I felt as I looked at the snowflakes, all unique, fragile and fleeting, existing for a moment and delicately beautiful. That was perhaps the beginning of my own sense of snow.
As a teenager I marveled at how snow would squeak under my boots, the cold crunching underfoot of the slightly packed snow and then came the squeak. There was always a sense of wonder at powdery snow, wet snow, and icy snow, each expression of snow giving us a different opportunity for play. For we did play with delight in each and every variety of snow; the games were endless from building forts to catching the flakes or the ice crystals on our tongues.
There were endless snowball fights. Some just for fun and some, grudge matches carried on from year to year.
All the many games involved a sense of snow; my sense of snow and the sense of snow from the perspective of my friends.
Write a story about snow. Remember the snow banks you climbed as a child. The ski trails you traveled. The down hill powder you flew through. Write a story about your sense of snow.