Ski Pants and Snow Angels

I'm fascinated with the english language, and constantly in awe of how everyone has the ability to express eloquence through writing randomly distinct and touching images. My sister in-law Vicki and I have been exchanging emails over the past few days and she couldn't help but comment on the ever-changing weather from a few days back: "Yesterday Emma was sitting outside on the steps in a spring jacket blowing bubbles all over our snow free yard. Today, ski pants and snow angels."

More than just the language though, I'm inspired by the adaptability of children and how they experience wonder under any circumstance. While one child might sit at the window looking forlorn over nature's snowy mood swing, my Emma Lou was outside taking advantage of a day designed for "ski pants and snow angels".

There is the possibility my Norman Rockwellian image attributes more to the moment than is warranted, but for a memory, I live vicariously through my niece's expanding experience of winter.

My cousin's back landing housed clumps of our shoes and skates, wet from afternoons and evenings of hockey and ice skating. I remember shoving blistered feet into stiff unforgiving skate boots, wiping left over ice from sharp blades, and hoping cheap bandaids would hold as we raced repeatedly up and down the ice.

I had a red hockey stick and quick legs as one of the few girls in a rink full of boys and flying pucks. There were cheap chips and hot chocolate from the nearby snack shop. And through the dark walk home away from the fading glow of rink lights, my feet felt flat and cold in my shoes. I walked slowly to minimize the pain from the hours spent in a Canadian winter.

I'm sure Emma's experience will differ vastly from my own, but the image of her lying in the snow, face to the sky, nose growing pinker by the minute...

Is there anything more perfect than a snow angel in ski pants? : )