Since I spent most of my growing up in San Diego I have never been too attached to the idea of 4 seasons. The 5 years experiencing them in my youth while living in Chicago, taught me that it's not all it's cracked up to be. Those dreamy photos of parents and children playfully jumping in a pile of fallen leaves with cute sweaters and scarfs leave out the cold reality. The beautiful fall colors last a fleeting few weeks and those leaves that fall need to be raked and bagged. Then you are left with only barren branches as a back drop for next 5 months while you scrape your icy wind shield and shovel the driveway-- right before it snows again. Really folks, we all know snow only has 3 good days, the first one of the season, Christmas morning, and the kind that get you out of school for an unexpected holiday. And all I learned in Chicago, was only reaffirmed in adulthood during my years in Utah, and especially Montana.
And so, I am not so naïve as to romanticize a real winter. But there are times like today listening to the kids sing Winter Wonderland while driving home from school amidst abundant sunshine, desert landscaping, and an urge to turn on the cool air, that gave me a fleeting twinge of longing. It occurred to me recently that the kids have rarely experienced a “traditional” climate. Most of our vacations are spent visiting our families in Las Vegas, and San Diego. Which is probably good, since I don't think our little desert offspring would appreciate it too much. Although, they do love to visit their cousin Alexis in the winter, but she lives in the mountains and has the baddest sled hill in her backyard, that hardly makes for an unbiased assessment.
So I was thinking, what if there were some new altered snow that wasn't cold or wet, but still had the snowball packability. I'm thinking a cross between moon sand and those little teeny tiny packaging Styrofoam balls you can't shake off your hand. I mean, we can grow seedless grapes, can't we engineer coldless, wetless snow? I guess it's too much to hope for, the simpler solution to my reverie would be to drive up to Flagstaff for the day and remind myself exactly what I'm not missing.
