Winter Creations

I remember my first encounter with snow. I was 16, and we were in Switzerland. Having a father who loves to travel, I find myself rather fortunate to have been brought to places from a young age.

As I stepped out of the tour bus, the soles of my sneaker hit slippery ice, and I grabbed on to the door of the bus. Looking back, I know now that snow had probably not fallen for a few days then. But back then, I was too excited at finally seeing snow that it didn't really disappoint me that the fallen snow was hard. Now I would call that kind of snow, 'stale snow'. The best snow is fresh snow, just having transformed from water droplets to snowflakes, subhanallah.

I wasn't able to make snowballs back then, on that mountain slope in Switzerland, but after living here for 11 years, I have had more than enough opportunities to play with snow. Yet, I never truly did play with snow, because my first reunion with snow was the first year I got here, during which I was pregnant, and more concerned about tumbling in the snow than playing with it. In fact, my first semester was filled with chilly mornings in which I had to trudge through mushy snow-dirt combo by the streets, with S inside of me. I had countless falls and slips on ice patches on campus too, and every year after that, for two years, I seemed to be bestowed with a living being inside of me. Playing with snow was not at the top of my list.

Now, I see my children enjoying the rather royal and majestic precipitation, and though I love to watch the snow blanket the evergreen shrubs, cars, creating soft mounds and shapes, I was not that moved to venture out and join them in constructing creations from snow.

S's igloo, looked more like a snow queen's throne to me. Everyday after the blizzard, while the snow was still on the ground, much like the snow I encountered in Siwtzerland, she would go out the back porch and work on her 'igloo'.

During the blizzard, which was a Saturday, both H and S dashed outside to play in the pristine white playground. My Saturdays are usually hectic; grocery shopping, Quran lesson at the masjid, and unexpected events. So I just watched them from the window. It really looked like fun, but I remained inside. H stuck his head inside a 'tunnel' while S worked on another creation. N stayed inside, whcih is normal for her, until she probably couldn't take it anymore. She soon joined them.

I personally don't like it when the trees begin to shed their leaves, for it looks so bare and gloomy. However, when the snow falls, things 'look up', because the sun's rays are very brightly reflected upwards by the whiteness of the snow.

"Everything looks pink in here!" the kids shout when they came in the door, panting dragon puffs. The brightness had probably got to them. Reminded me of snow blindness that I read about when I was reading about exploration of the Antartic.

I had discouraged them from makig snowmen, so they utilized their creativity building inanimate things instead. In our shared front yard, they built a tunnel, which was rather cool, for it held up for a few days. It was only when we went out a few days after the blizzard that I noticed the tunnel, still standing.

"Quick! Take a picture of it before someone knocks it down!" I told them.

Today, we are blessed with rain, and even though there are still some snow patches remaining, after looking at these pictures, I find that I actually miss all that snow. I do look forward to spring and all its splash of pastels, but winter does have its own enigma and attraction, which I tend to forget in the midst of trying to warm myself up under our throws on the couch.