Being the first to watch the snow fall is a unique privilege. The silence of flakes hitting the ground, the only other thing in the air is clouds of hot breath.
Sitting with my brother, we reminisce about the excitement this exact white fluff used to bring us. We used to run out to put forks in the yard, ice cubes down the toilet, and spoons under our pillows. It always made it snow, but drove my mother crazy when it was time for dinner, and the utensil drawer was empty.
Now in our twenties, it felt less exciting to watch it fall, less incentive to want more, until I plopped down and recreated a favorite memory of mine, angels in the snow. I look over to my right and am transported to my five-year-old self, as my older brother makes his own snow angel. One looks better than the other, but I won’t say whose…
Have a Bright Spot to share? Send it to Managing Editor Julia Lerner (lernerj@denison.edu). Tell us about the moment that made you smile in under 200 words, and try to include a photograph. We’ll add it to our growing list of Bright Spots on TheReportingProject.org!