Winter Delight

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When the first snowflakes begin to fall, I run around squealing with delight, trying to catch the falling shapes on my tongue. If a blanket of snow covers the ground, I throw myself onto my back and move my arms and legs up and down to make a snow angel.

As soon as the freezing temperatures become reliable, the mayor has the baseball diamond flooded to make an outdoor rink. It seems like everyone in town has a pair of skates and I rush to be the first one onto the freshly hardened, glistening sheet of ice. The ice looks perfect until my skates carve little lines all over it.

On another day, I call my friends and we meet at the hill with our toboggans.  It’s a challenge each year to avoid the trees and to stay out of the river at the bottom of the hill.  The river is frozen over, but who knows how solid it is.

The next day, I grab Grandpa’s old wooden snow shoes and tramp around the meadow above our house. No grazing bulls around to chase me this time of the year!

The winter festival arrives and I watch an old man carve a castle out of a huge block of ice. I wonder if it will melt and - as if the old man has read my thoughts - he says that if the sun shines brightly and warms the ice, the castle will soon be a puddle. I hope for lots of cloud as I run over to the snow cone booth.  I forgo an added flavour because I prefer only maple syrup on my cone. The teenager working there winks at me and gives me an extra drizzle of syrup.

At night, I go for a walk and see my breath under the street lamps. I stop and stare at the heavens twinkling with at least a million stars. I gasp with wonder and feel so alive yet so small compared to the vastness of the universe above me.

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Winter Delight ("the published story") has been created, written and published solely by the author, Deborah K. Hanula.

All rights reserved. No part of the published story may be reproduced in any manner, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, scanning, photographing, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author/publisher, Deborah K. Hanula.

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