February brought South Valley some ultra-warm winter days. Folks headed to the beach and packed into frozen yogurt shops as outdoor temperatures soared near 80.
Meanwhile, Hubby and I were in the Colorado Rockies, immersed in more traditional February-type weather, awaiting the arrival of family including our four grandchildren, two of whom were seeing snow for the first time.
Snowy photo ops were plentiful. After I posted pictures of the little ones cavorting in the snow, one of my Facebook friends remarked that it reminded her of the days when her family took their kids to the snow.
That’s something unique about living in California. West coast kids are accustomed to “going to the snow” as opposed to “living in the snow” as I once did growing up in Colorado. We traipsed to school through deep, fluffy drifts, draping mittens and mufflers on old steam radiators and experiencing the pervasive soggy scents in our classrooms of sodden clothing, coats and shoes.
Fast forward to this winter when our youngsters experienced softly falling snow on their tongues, cold noses and cheeks from 20-degree temperatures and the all-around good time of sledding, tubing, ice skating and cross-country skiing—all on equipment supplied free of charge in our small mountain community.
We crammed into every nook and cranny the snow experience as it relates to a child.
I couldn’t imagine what went through the head of our youngest, 2-and-a-half-year-old Cal, as he looked around in wide-eyed wonder at a world of sparkling white as his brother and cousins sledded down the small hill made from mounds of snow, cleared from our driveway by the man who operates his free-wheeling Bobcat plow.
Dressed in colorful parkas, snow pants and woolen caps, the kids were everywhere—up to their waists in soft snow, skidding along icy clearings and scooping up handfuls of the white stuff to toss at siblings and cousins alike.
We found, too, the fun of going to a festive Mexican restaurant dinner as a party of 10, stomping snow off our boots as servers and patrons laughed at the antics of little ones high on snow and life.
Playing games by the fire, making cookies in the warm, bakery-scented kitchen, pulling the kids along on sleds over snow-packed roads, as a family we experienced a unique kind of winter fun—where “going to the snow” became, for a few tender days, “living in the snow” and
experiencing a glimpse of the life I lived as a child growing up in the Colorado mountains.
Too soon it was time for our progeny to travel back to Denver to meet the plane that would carry them back to our warmer California climate. As luck would have it, a near blizzard blew in causing long airport delays and extra hours cramped together on the plane.
So while “going to the snow” in Colorado was great fun indeed, sometimes going home is even better.
