What Snow Whispers: A Parent’s Reflections on Frozen Magic.

Parenting

Okay, so, snow. What is it, really? Not just the scientific definition, you know, the frozen water crystals. But, the feeling of it? I’ve been thinking about this a lot since last week’s unexpected flurry. We live in a place where snow’s a rare visitor, and when it does show up, it’s a spectacle.

Remember that time, years ago, when we went to Shimla? Manya was maybe three. Tiny, bundled in a ridiculous snowsuit. And the way her eyes widened when she saw the first flakes, like it was magic. That’s what snow is, isn’t it? Pure, unadulterated wonder.

It’s funny, though. I used to think snow was just… cold. Obviously. But, it’s more nuanced than that. It’s the hush that descends when it falls, the way sound gets muffled. It’s the crunch under your boots, a sound that’s both delicate and satisfying. And the sheer, blinding brightness when the sun hits it. I’ve seen those Instagram-perfect winter scenes, you know, the ones that make you want to curl up with a hot chocolate and a good book. Which, by the way, reminds me, I still need to finish that Elena Ferrante novel I picked up. Distractions, they’re everywhere, aren’t they?

Anyway, snow. I’m still figuring out how to explain its ephemeral nature to Manya, now eight. She’s obsessed with building snowmen, but then, poof, they’re gone. Like those fleeting moments of childhood innocence, I guess. You try to hold onto them, but they melt away.

And, you know, sometimes I wonder if we over-romanticize it. After all, for some, it’s just a massive inconvenience. Like, when the roads get blocked and the power goes out. I read a blog post just the other day, maybe it was on “Modern Family Parenting,” about how winter can be a real struggle for families with limited resources. It’s easy to forget that when you’re sipping hot cocoa by the fire.

But, when I see Manya’s face, lit up with joy as she catches snowflakes on her tongue, I can’t help but smile. It’s a reminder that even the simplest things can bring immense happiness. And maybe that’s the point of snow, or life, for that matter. To find those moments of pure, unadulterated joy, even if they’re fleeting. And to appreciate them while they last.