Although the custom has been to post a His Lens/My Pen the last Monday of the month, I figure this image is pertinent now. Who knows? We might have a spring thaw next week rendering this image irrelevant. Yeah, right. The phrase a snowball’s chance in hell comes to mind. So with snowballs and snowmen on my mind, I thought I’d share this shot of a snowman I built last winter.
When I was a child, a snowstorm hit Atlanta. Real snow — white, freezing, six-pointed flakes — the whole megillah. I scooped and gathered ecstatically, piling handfuls of snow atop one another. After a couple of hours, my first and only snowman measured about three inches high. Proud and chilled, I went in. He was gone by afternoon.
Up here in the Klondike, snowmen are part of the landscape. I try and build one every season. Those who know me know I’m not, I repeat not, partial to the cold. I’m not one of those who eagerly awaits the brisk turn of fall to break out all my sweaters. But I do love making snowmen.
There’s a wild abandon that comes with making my snowman. Not only do I feel like a child, but I connect to the particular experience of being a Southern child caught up in the utter magic of once-in-a-lifetime winter wonder. Delight bubbles up. I laugh. I drop all curmudgeonly complaints about frigid temps, shoveling, and developing those awful skin cuts around my thumbnails.
For however long it takes, or however long I can stay out there, I am a child once again — happily patting handfuls of snow into place, stopping every now and then to sweep a snow angel or two into existence. Reconnecting with that inner child puts everything else into perspective. I am totally present, at complete attention full and exuberant. Time may wait for no man, march on and leave crow’s feet behind. When I am making a snowman, or having fun in any way, time vanishes and a regenerating life force fills the space.
So go have some fun — whether of the snow kind or another. And if you know someone who needs to remove his or her grownup mask and rediscover that inner child, send them a link to this column. Or send them this card from our Etsy shop. It’s going to be a long winter. Best to season it with some fun.