Lucia: snow is wonderful in childhood. i remember spending whole days out in the winter, sledding, throwing snowballs ... those things seem to persist when i forget other, more obviously "important" days. at the first snowfall of the year, i am always eight years old ...
i wondered at first if it mattered whose childhood you were referring to. i don't believe it does. (and i don't believe you are referring to anyone's childhood specifically, but perhaps i am wrong and this also does not matter.) our youth maintains through the course of our lives, the vertebrae upon which our personal mythologies are built. (here i say, thank you, mrs. gross.) i remember ted's piece, Tyambee (http://8thavesouth.blogspot.ca/2012/01/tyambee.html), i remember the fields of snow blowing sideways while my nose was pressed against glass waiting for my sister and brother to walk down the stairs from their bus and into our warm kitchen, the Some Day the Waves lyrics, "Waking before you Ive got a fever and a childish wish for snow", and i think to the distant window of snow that you and i dream of. it all has the same origin. snow falls only falls once ever and becomes the gossamar thread through each of us.
erin: the same snow falls through all these memories and dreams. it unites and somehow warms, like standing under a blanket. thank you, too, for mentioning ted's piece -- it is important, and i hope many will go there and read. no, i wasn't thinking of any specific person's childhood, but it does not matter ... i can't believe that any of us ever leave childhood, or at least we carry it with us ...
Liz: memories of snow are warm ... why is that? ... i remember building a snow house in the yard and lying there on packed snow, perfectly warm and content ...
As a kid I always wanted to see snow, touch it, feel it, play in the snow...
ReplyDeleteHave a nice weekend James. :)
Lucia: snow is wonderful in childhood. i remember spending whole days out in the winter, sledding, throwing snowballs ... those things seem to persist when i forget other, more obviously "important" days. at the first snowfall of the year, i am always eight years old ...
ReplyDeletei wondered at first if it mattered whose childhood you were referring to. i don't believe it does. (and i don't believe you are referring to anyone's childhood specifically, but perhaps i am wrong and this also does not matter.) our youth maintains through the course of our lives, the vertebrae upon which our personal mythologies are built. (here i say, thank you, mrs. gross.) i remember ted's piece, Tyambee (http://8thavesouth.blogspot.ca/2012/01/tyambee.html), i remember the fields of snow blowing sideways while my nose was pressed against glass waiting for my sister and brother to walk down the stairs from their bus and into our warm kitchen, the Some Day the Waves lyrics, "Waking before you Ive got a fever and a childish wish for snow", and i think to the distant window of snow that you and i dream of. it all has the same origin. snow falls only falls once ever and becomes the gossamar thread through each of us.
ReplyDeletexo
erin
And here's what I thought of:
ReplyDeletehttp://youtu.be/KKPHA3_cBus
Snow touching our skin and watching each flake hit the pavement makes us feel like a child who sees snow warm in their eyes and not cold
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, just beautiful. The title makes it even more full.
ReplyDeleteerin: the same snow falls through all these memories and dreams. it unites and somehow warms, like standing under a blanket. thank you, too, for mentioning ted's piece -- it is important, and i hope many will go there and read. no, i wasn't thinking of any specific person's childhood, but it does not matter ... i can't believe that any of us ever leave childhood, or at least we carry it with us ...
ReplyDeleteHannah: thank you :-) this is lovely, and i am always surprised at the unexpected directions a post can take for different readers ...
ReplyDeleteLiz: memories of snow are warm ... why is that? ... i remember building a snow house in the yard and lying there on packed snow, perfectly warm and content ...
ReplyDeleteJane: thank you :-)
ReplyDelete