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Christy Walters
Christy Walters
Snowday
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What's a snowday in Newfoundland for me? In my youth it was a day to miss school, and after enough had accumulated, my family would have a series of "snowday events" including building forts, towers, snow creatures, an extensive snow tunnel system and the infamous snowball fight. Despite its harsh and often negative connotations, I associate snow with a plethora of memories.

Now I'm away from home going to school and doing six courses, a part-time job and a slew of volunteering activities. I rarely have time to breathe. A couple of days ago we had a snowday. It literally saved me from an assignment due date I couldn't possibly make.

I've often wondered out of everywhere on earth, why I was placed on this island of snow in winters and cool breezes in summers; why placed in the land of freedom, on a Glillian's island of sorts. I think I've figured it out. Out of all the places in the world on this snowday in March, there is nowhere I'd rather be. As I look out my window at the flakes crashing down at all speeds, in all shapes and sizes, as if to purify the land with one swift coat of sparkling light, I find comfort.

As the snow covers the land and its surroundings and until the time we dig our way out again, I find comfort in knowing we can uniformly be still, halt our hectic days and think of life, love and happiness. Or, maybe just think about how much fun we're going to have playing, ski-dooing and ski-ing in it over the next few weeks.

Like anything, it's not all fun and games, of course there's the shoveling part, the driving part, and the sheer coldness part. I've surmised the purpose of me living here may be to help me appreciate the summer when it comes. Having to go through such extreme weather helps me appreciate the sunny days in my life. Again, like anything, you weigh the positives and negatives. It's a love-hate relationship between me and snow.

When the perfectly symmetrical crystal sensations land on my tongue, it's love. When the spring flower breaks into full bloom after a long winter, it's love. When the sun hits the horizon and the nippers break free upon this island, it's love. Even as I sit here now, snow crashing on my windowsill, bringing back some of my most cherished memories, it's love. Who has time for the hate thing in this world? I think I'll build a snowfort to fight it, well, figuratively at least.

March 16, 2008 | 10:04 AM Comments  0 comments

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