My gait is unsteady and I use a walker, so snow and icy roads are not my favourite weather conditions and I keep a close eye on the forecast. Yesterday evening I told my husband that my News-App issued a snow warning. He checked his weather App and said: “I don’t think so.” This morning I was greeted by 10 cm of fresh snow. Unfortunately I had been right. But everything went back to normal pretty quickly.
When I was a child, I loved snow. We lived on the outskirts north of Cologne near a park. Much room to roam around, many friends to play with, it was wonderful. There was a small hill, and this was where we all met in winter. Everybody brought a sleigh, and we stayed there in the cold for hours. We really romped about, but nothing really bad happened. I never went home before I was chilled to the bones. Then I changed into dry clothes and sat near the radiator to get warm. After that, I went out in the cold again. There was one day when school was cancelled due to bad weather, we were so happy: One more day we could spend outside in the snow.
As grown-ups we have to stick to a schedule and often miss the magic of Winter Wonderland. But when I look out of the window and see the snow-covered landscape, for a short moment the enchantment from decades ago is back.