I used to love when, on a cold dark night, it began to snow. I watched it with my nose against my second-story window. It was a safe feeling, knowing how cold it was on the other side of the glass and being snug inside. Sometimes, from downstairs in the kitchen, Pop would flip the switch and turn the flood lights on. The light illumined each snowflake as it fell against the blackness. I love this memory.
Photo courtesy of kitisconfused at photobucket.com
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