After sulking through a green Christmas and an abnormally warm New Year’s Eve, we finally received real snow this past Friday evening. By real snow, I mean, “snow that doesn’t melt as soon as it comes in contact with asphalt.” In fact, we had what looked like a good foot of snow.

By Saturday afternoon, I could not resist; I donned my clunky snow boots and went outside for a walk.

What surprised me was all the snow that was left untouched. Perhaps it’s because I grew up in an age where Internet and video games were too costly or not as widespread, but when I was a kid, if you went out to play in the afternoon after a snowstorm last night, there would no longer be any fresh snow for you to play in. This was especially true during the weekends, when kids would literally just wake up, eat breakfast, and run outside to frolick in the snow. I was and still am a night owl at heart, so by the time I got outside, I had a hard time to find a perfect canvas of snow to make snow angels in.

Not yesterday though. There were plains and plains of marshmallowy snow everywhere, and while I was decidedly hesitant about plopping down and rolling around in it, I had no qualms about trampling all of it. I’m pretty sure I got weird stares when I was walking in the untouched snow drifts on either side of the cleanly shovelled and salted sidewalks, but hey, they should be thankful; I’m clearing snow for people who feel like jaywalking and those who need to get their snow-buried cars!

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