white stuff
Did you know it snowed? Oh, not here. But in the northeast corner of Massachusetts, where we went for Thanksgiving. We woke up Thursday morning to fluffy white flakes floating down like fat dust motes. I immediately remembered the sensation of snowflakes dissolving on my face, chilly little bites. It's visceral, imbedded in the DNA even after 17 years.
But Damian had never experienced snow in his 7 ½ years of life. From LA, you have to go find winter. We haven't bothered in years. We never found anywhere satisfying nearby, not enough to suit our tastes. Vermont isn't exactly close at hand when you're in Southern California, you know? And Lake Arrowhead doesn’t cut it. At least not for us.
Snow. Falling. From the sky. Pretty, soft snow. Damian ran to get me, to bring me to the window so we could watch together but really so he could say the one remaining thing from the list he compiled before moving.
"What's that white stuff?"
And then waited with a smile for me to say, "That's snow, Damian."
He'd gone through the same routine with Dan a few minutes earlier.
Funny kid.
We opened the sliding glass door in the kitchen and scooped snow off the deck. Damian's first handful of snow. He was enamored.
He and I put winter jackets on over our pajamas and went out into the whiteness. The snow had stopped falling by then, but it crunched underfoot and compacted nicely in your mittens and acted in all the ways snow acts and Damian loved it all.
Later, Dan went out front and rolled a huge snowball, sculpting it into this:
The strange part, for me, was how not-strange it felt. I think childhood sensations stay with you your whole life, no matter how long it's been. That knowledge, that tactile immediacy, it comes back in an instant, brought forth from whatever part of the brain that has been set aside for deep imprinting. This is how it is. It snows in winter. It feels cold and wet and covers everything in white newness and that's the way things are and were and will be.
Comments
This is a beautiful description of Damian's first experience with snow!
Posted by: Eileen | November 29, 2005 09:38 PM
We had snow in Provence, France, last Wednesday during a week-long vacation -- not enough to stick on the ground, but still pretty fluffy flakes that certainly don't appear here in Sacramento, CA, on a regular basis! At the moment, though, I think I prefer being able to VISIT snow rather than having to LIVE with it (after many years in New England & the Midwest...). Did Damian get to make a snow angel? That was always one of my favorite snow actitivites. ;)
Posted by: jms | November 30, 2005 11:54 AM
Replying to you from TC's blog comments.
Yes, Tamar, I am not forced to look at the Menorah van. ( But I LOVE the Menorah van. I think it's so cool!) But my daughter does participate in the Passover seder at her school---no questions asked. That's what they do. I supposed if I felt strongly against learning outside of Christian religious beliefs, then I could anticipate the event and keep her home. (Bah! I could never do that!)It is a given that we all learn to appreciate each other's culture and traditions. I don't call that "ramming down our throats" or any other such harsh term. (And I am not saying that you do. It's actually a term I heard at the grocery store the other day.)No, I call it an opportunity for learning and sharing. True, Christmas is big, and visible, and everywhere. But no one is forcing you or TC or anyone to participate or even like it. But the reality is, it is There. Everywhere,inescapable, as some would say. If you want to waste your time battling that, go ahead, but I think women with the enormous talents that you and TC have would find more constructive ways to apply yourselves. Of course, I am awfully sanctimonoius here and there is the very real possibility that I have misinterpreted what I have read. And I do want to reiterate that your feelings are valid. No one should be negated because of their beliefs. On anything. But nor should any of us use our beliefs as a weapon to bonk others over the head with because they do not think as we do. Again, I am not saying that you do. But I think we've seen that happening in the political arena repeatedly, and that's just going to exacerbate experiences that we may have already experienced in a negative way. Well, so much for the rambling. Happy day. /Bee
Posted by: bee | December 2, 2005 10:01 AM
Addendum.
ACH, Gott!! Maybe I could have taken the time to read TC's latest post before replying to your comment. I actually do live and work in an ideal place, where we do get Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanna off. I have fasted through Ramadan and found that my workplace bends over backwards to accomodate people's beliefs. So there is no way that I could address your and TC's comments with any authority, bacause I have not been on either side of them. But it does make me truly thankful that I don't live in a place where I would. You and TC are truly "eye-openers" and I am thankful that your voices unfailingly speak up and are heard. You both are in the "Never Delete" section of my blogroll, or whatever it's called. Thanks for the POVs! /Bee
Posted by: bee | December 2, 2005 10:13 AM
Thank you for reminding me of one of the good parts of my childhood. I was 8 when first I met snow - as enraptured as Damian, and amazed by its non-resemblance to cotton-wool.
Young enough to enjoy shovelling the pavement clear - thoroughly - and greedy for cocoa afterwards. Oh, and for as much snow ice-cream (clean snow & jam, of all things) as allowed.
I wouldn't be a child again for all the tea in china, and I'm happy when it snows somewhere *else, but it's good to remember that there were joys in both. Thank you. 8-)
Posted by: Baba Yaga | December 2, 2005 07:06 PM