Since about 8 o'clock tonight, it's been snowing those beautiful, fluffy snowflakes. I've already been out to shovel some of it. I like going out there and shoveling. It's so quiet. The whole world is muffled by trillions of sparkles and it makes me feel like I'm in another world. I barley notice the cold and, other than the strain on my back, I find the work enjoyable. The snow reminds me so much of you and shoveling allows me to be selfish with my thoughts, thinking only of you. Having coffee under our archway, kissing under that amazingly clear winter sky and coming inside to keep each other warm. Summer is easy. Everything happens in the summer and my memories are a blur of family and friends. But winter is about you. I can see the rosiness on your cheeks from the cold wind. I can feel your strong hands, icy as I wrap mine around them. I can smell the wet canvas of your coat after an afternoon of sledding. Neither one of us likes the cold and we both tire of the snow so quickly. It seems strange to me that my newly frosted world envokes memories of you so strong, I could swear you were home with me. Memories that are so warm and comforting, I think they'll help me get through this winter.
I just looked up and noticed the snow stopped. I think that might be my sign to stop as well. It's so late, but watching the snow out the window has been so soothing for me, it's worth the loss of sleep. But I will need to be well-rested so I have the strength to shovel again in the morning.
