"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."
Snow. A blank canvas, ready for you to make your mark. I love snow; I've seen it only 5 times in my life, but when I do see it, I revert back to being the 5 year old, excitable, ecstatic little girl who couldn't believe the beautiful little stars landing on my gloves were really there.
We all return to innocence in the snowfall. A snow day, we're all off school, and we have a snowball fight in a blizzard, laughing and rugby tackling eachother; sledging down the hills and venturing out onto an icey lake - a game of chicken.
The towns and cities become a massive playground for us all, while the countryside turns into the most beautiful sight in the world. So after my day of rolling around in the snow, I went for a walk in the woods, and nostalgia swept over me. Why can't everyday be a snow day? Why can't this uncaring happiness be never ending?
Maybe because then the moments that take our breath away, like when I was standing by the beautiful, frozen lake, remiscing about winters years ago, would simply just turn into breathing. And without moments that take our breath away, where would we be?