I have always been told, I’ve lived a sheltered life. All because by the age of 18 I had never to gone to the principal’s office for being in trouble (okay maybe once, but not really), I hadn’t mastered the art of swimming, hadn’t learned to rollerskate or rollerblade (not really anyway…at least not without falling on my bum. really. hard.), had never been outside of the United States, or gone to Medieval Times, and the big kicker….I had never seen falling snow.
Sure, you say…”You live in California, that’s quite common!” Okay…well, how bout this… by the age of 18…I had never even been in the presence of snow. I had always had this longing to see it. Despite my mother’s insistent arguments that I indeed had already been to the snow…I just didn’t remember. Sure mom…did you recall, that you have 3…count them…three…. other children. I’m pretty sure you’ve mixed us up in the childhood stories, as always. Yeah…and my name is Erin, mom…not Lerin. “Oh, but you must’ve been too young to remember…” Nope…I looked through all the photo albums, mom. There’s isn’t even any faint whisper of a photo from a snow trip.
The summer after my 18th birthday, I finally visited the snow. It was just a short day trip, but it was amazing. I giggled my heart’s delight all the way down the slippery slopey snow in a sort of saucer like plastic thing (heck, I don’t know…it was the first time I had seen one). I guess it’s what you people call…a sled? Sure. Why not.
So…now…falling snow. It must be the much coveted experience by Californians. I know it is for me. When I talk about it to people…sometimes I hear…”Snow! I hate snow! Try having to shovel loads and loads of it out of the driveway just to get to school or work in the morning…try living in it when the chill factor is beyond bearable and no matter how many layers you have on, you feel as if your boogers have already frozen up inside your nostrils.” Ew…yes I said it. Boogers. Ala dumb and dumber style.
Oh, yes…I’m aware. But, I’m not saying I want to live in the snow. I just want to SEE falling snow. In my head, I have this idea that when it happens…it will be this gloriously magical moment. A moment where I will tilt my head back with my face up ward to the sky, long flowing hair in the cold wind (maybe wave it around glamor shot style), and spiral myself in a tornado with my arms out wide in excitement. Soft, flaky, almost like pixie dust (who doesn’t like pixie dust) when I brush it off of everything. Then, there’s the snow angels…I mean…who can forget those? Oh! and snowball fights! Well, suffice it to say that if I get anywhere near snow and expect it, I will have my trusty camera by my side, to capture that magical moment.
Alright…if after all of that, the only thing you zeroed in on was the fact that I can’t swim…you just wait and see. Why?! You may ask. Well, that’s a whole pandora’s box of goodies I’ll save for another time.
I was driving very early in the morning on my way to Vegas for WPPI, and I was taken back by the breathtaking view of the mountains. It had rained the night before, which made for an amazingingly clear sky of the horizon ahead of me. I kept telling myself that I should take a picture of it, but that’s always the thing that makes me late…”Oh sorry, I’m late…the sunset was just so purdy…” Finally, as I drove along the 15, I got the closest I probably could in that situation, and decided to pull over on the shoulder. I got out my camera nervously as the cars whizzed by me at enormous rates. I bit my lip, when my car fettered from side to side with vibrations from the speed of the freeway.
I love how you can tell where the altitude is no longer fitting for snow to form…the line where the snow stops.
A lot has changed since I was 18…I should hope so right? I can tell ya’ll about it later though. But, for sure I haven’t seen falling snow yet.