2021 #1: Am I the only one obsessed with snow?
Why does the snow make us feel like children?
I woke up with a jolt and threw open the curtains. To my surprise, huge snowflakes were whirling past my window, dancing as they descended to the street below: the forecast had been right!
It was the first snow of 2021 in Berlin, and the first time in years the snow was settling. Something about this brought out a childish joy in me that I had not experienced for a long time. I was more excited than on my birthday or at Christmas, and impatiently sat staring outside waiting for Rupert to get ready.
Fully wrapped up with my bright purple snow boots and old ski jacket, we set off in search of untouched snow; that beautiful, thick blanket of snowflakes that just beckons to be stepped in. There was one thing we needed to do first, however, and as soon as we were out of the door, we were scooping snow off of car bonnets and chasing each other with snowballs as we giggled like children.
Why do we love snow so much? What is it about these frozen droplets that we find so enticing and have romanticised so much in our minds? Perhaps it’s an opportunity to play, run and be silly in a way we seldom do as adults. Perhaps the bright white of the snowflakes is a positive change from the dreary grey that we so often see in winter.
For me - growing up in the south of England - seeing the snow was a novelty. As a child, on days where there were white snow clouds in the sky, I used to rush downstairs and turn the radio onto the local station and listen out for my school’s name on the list of schools that were closed for the day, meaning I was free to frolic in the snow. Even at the age of 17 or 18, my friends and I would rush to meet each other so we could run around in the fields near our houses, build snowmen and have snowball fights. These rosy memories are the ones which warm my heart even when my toes are frozen.
So back to Berlin, where, at the age of 30, I’m wide-eyed and breath-taken by the falling snow.
Rupert and I headed to the only place that made sense in the snow: our local forest (Buch). Veering off the path, following the untouched snow, I felt a sense of contentment and wonder come over me. I was no longer thinking, I was just present, looking at the way the snow-coated the branches, where puddles had iced over and the green leaves of ferns poked out between the white blanket that covered the land.
Just as I was starting to find a walking meditative state, a small child whizzed past me on a sledge laughing and laughing as he descended the hill at speed, his grinning parents running behind him. I couldn’t help but smile, too. Joy is infectious, and snow helps our playful state emerge.
As I write this, hot chocolate cooling beside me, the snow is falling once more and I have a smile on my face as I watch the snowflakes drifting past. I’m excited for my next snow adventure, just next time I want to try sledging, too!
What’s your favourite activity in when it’s snow? Have you ever been sledging? I’d love to hear from you.