I love the winter.

I love the cold crisp air as it fills my lungs, and awakens me.  I love the grey solitude of the world in its slumbering state.  Perhaps it is the strange looks I get from others when I walk around in the cold, no coat or hat, which makes me a little happier.  The thing I love most of all about winter is the snow.

Ever since I was a child I have been fascinated with those white flakes falling from the sky.  The sheer beauty of a snow covered yard, smoke rising from the chimneys, and the low, gray, snow-laden clouds quells so many of my inner-demons.  I feel that this love of snow is one of the many things that I hold onto that can be found in the magic of childhood.  You can see it in the faces of children as they push their faces up to the window and gasp in sight of it all.

I understand that I live in the “South” now.  But one simple fact remains; we see snow every year here.  Perhaps it is part of the ingrained mentality for so many people around here that snow is this impossible force, nightmarish at times.  I am not sure.  All I know is while I enjoy this, my most favorite time of year, I do not enjoy that due to the fact that I live in the “South” my commute time doubles.  I chuckle a little as I pass so many drivers, traveling well under the speed limit, with their knuckles white with fear, hunched forward in some inane attempt to see more clearly.  Or when the gentlemen in the $60K sports car flies by me and I watch the back end of his car wiggle to and fro, precariously close to the moment that is to come.  There is something about waiving at the same gentleman who passed me going oh so fast, as his $60K sports car now faces the wrong way, in the median, tires shredded and damage done. 

Perhaps, as we grow older, this magic is lost with so much of the other fascinations that we once held so dear.  Christmas, long summer nights chasing fireflies (or lighting bugs), feeling the waves push your body over while you are staring down an ocean that is far too large for your comprehension, or even the monsters under our beds.   It saddens me, yet gives me hope that as my children grow, they too may hold onto the joys of winter.

I AM A CRANIO DAD, I am scared out of my mind, and I just wanted to share this thought with all of you.