The cold wind was chilling and sharp, the bite was enough to numb your insides and take your breath away. Six days after Xmas and finally I woke to a vast blanket of snow. Soft and fluffy like the clouds in the sky ,stretching for miles covering every open space, roof top and object in sight.
I drew open my bedroom curtains and prised open the window, pushing away the soft clumps of snow that had layered upon the window ledge. The snow cascaded down leaving my fingers numb and feeling less.My face was greeted with a sharp in take of fresh artic air, causing condensation on the warm central heated window. I wiped away at the cold frosty glass and watched the white canvas of snow awaiting the first foot prints to put a mark on it.
Feeling the chill penetrating through my thin pyjamas, I swiftly closed the window. Nostalgic memories flooded through my mind. Memories of the excitement of childhood seeing the first snow, the shrieking, the shrilling, the excited banter as my mom tried to cajole me to dress me in the warmest cloths, layers of socks, hat, gloves and than entangling me in the warmest woolly scarf. Of course the dressing was not complete without coaxing my tiny feet into the lovely new shining red wellies that were my pride and joy. Finally armed with a spade, I was allowed to run onto the awaiting canvas to paint my picture.
I ran around backwards and forwards tracing and retracing my footprints, made snowballs and built the most lopsided snowman in history. Having a carrot for a nose and black pebbles for the eyes, my Mr Frosty (the snowman) was complete with his own bobble hat and scarf.
The beautiful white canvas was now a picture of innocence created by a small child, a painting full of small footprints, clusters of snow balls and standing in the centre of the painting for the whole world to see Mr Frosty.
My thoughts were interrupted by exiting squeals coming from the other bedroom. My daughter excited at seeing the First snow of the new year….
Copyright(c)2009 Nayna Kanabar