Snow

Today, from my big girl job at the Art Institute, I had the privilege of watching the snow fall. All day long. From the Michigan Avenue Coat Room, I watched through the big windows. Big flakes floating and sticking to sidewalk, lions, windblown tourists. Perfection.

On the way home, I leapt into tiny snowbanks to leave my footprints, giggling a little more like a kindergartener than a grad student as my boots squished into these little collections of snowflakes along the sidewalk. I looked up, caught snowflakes on my tongue, felt them glitter in streetlights as they melted onto my nose.

I won't lie. I even took advantage of the slippery street and twirled through the wind, enjoying the dusky halflight of a cloudy, winter evening. Snow sparkles, covering everything in sight, more like confetti than ice cubes. It's one of my favorite sights, light glittering off of snow when it's not quite light and not quite dark. That and the snow in moonlight and streetlights, when you can see it all whirling about through the air (sparkling; most importantly).

All this twirling, all this glitter blanketing the world in its glowy happiness; it's dreadfully romantic. It makes me want to be swept off my feet for nights full of snuggling with someone very warm and walking through cold, night air arm in arm with no one else on the street, and kisses under those snowy streetlights. And copious amounts of Bailey's, hot chocolate, and romantic movies.

Loving this Winter Wonderland...