Snow night.

My sister Michelle and I went out in the snow an hour or so ago. My last prolonged encounter with snow was an adrenaline-rush-snowball-fight, quite the opposite of tonight. We bundled up (I wore green galoshes, grey sweat pants, bright blue lacrosse swishy pants, a tan coat, a white jacket, a black and brown scarf, green striped gloves, and a blue and white striped hat. I was breaking any and all fashion rules), walked out to our front yard, and lied down in the 5 or so inches of snow. We lied, amazed at the way the snow piles up on the tree branches and how it wiggles with the pattern of the twisty telephone wire, for about some minutes, and then our backs became cold. We rolled over and ate snow for a bit, which I love, then wandered the street for wandering's sake. Under a streetlight, we stopped and let our heads hang back on our necks for about 10 minutes. It was hard to breath. And talk. And catch snowflakes on our tongues. And enjoy the beautiful snowflakes all at the same time. Then we came back inside, even though Michelle claimed she could sleep in the snow without feeling cold. That only works with snow caves though.