This is part of the grateful series.
The first snow of the season is always special. This year I experienced a “first snow” twice—I suppose it was doubly special.
When I see the ingress of snow fall from the sky for the first time of the season, I’m reminded of how grateful I am to be alive. Sometimes, I find it difficult to see the beauty of the day, but this task is simple on that first snow. An army of fluffy, cotton-like snow sent from above to hug the tops of everything: car roofs, people’s shoes, house roofs, grass roots, lamp posts, snow boots, coast to coast.
Snow, and the winter weather at large, has always appealed to the child in me. There’s something very magical about the process. I’m glad this is another year where the child still exists. It’s easy to degrade the experience because of what’s associated with it: shovelling, driving, cold weather, darkness. It’s very powerful to deconstruct an experience from the feelings we associate with them. If you ingest the experience for what it is, I find it hard to see it as anything other than magic.
I visited Banff with some friends, earlier this year. Alberta tends to receive snow before Ontario and we were fortunate to experience their first snow, too. (More on Banff, coming soon.)
It was quite slippery, so this candid captures the essence of the moment—we were watching our steps quite carefully.
This pictures captures the volume of snow well. The varying depths of snow are perceived by the camera in the form of blurriness. Also, the one and only, Darshil Patel.
Beautiful, isn’t it?