I grew up in Texas so I did not grow up with a familiarity with snow. Living further north now for almost 25 years, I have not lost my fascination with snow, with snowflakes and with the food they are for a rambling fancy. One of my favorite things to do is to go outside and listen to the snow fall. The flakes make tiny clinking sounds as they drift down, bumping into each other on the way. Perhaps it is their fall through the air and the sound of the movement of air over their surfaces that contributes to the sound, too. I don’t know. But it is a lovely experience. Snow hushes the world, even in the city.
Now, lest you think that I have gotten run over by my romantic rambling fancy, I will also add here that, although I have never lost my fascination with snow and appreciate its magical qualities to stir the imagination, I have also become increasingly nervous (rather than less so) about driving in the stuff.
As Rumpelstiltskin points out, Magic always has consequences.
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