Whenever I think of snow sevral words come to mind such as: wet, cold, crunchy, slushy, dirty, and sparkly. I remember countless snow days from elementary school, when my brother and I were stuck at home for a few days, causing our parents to wish for school to reopen. Another memory is sledding with my family and friends at the park, and almost running into little kids at the bottom of the hill. Instead of moving out of the way, they would stand there in shock as the sled would zoom down the hill to where they were standing, almost hitting them, until their parents would intervene and quickly pick them up. At least they were not squashed into the snow, like many little kids before them. A good snowfall is not complete without snowmen, and my brother and I decided to construct the most massive snowman we had built in our short lives. Snow will always melt, so when the weather started to warm up, my mom bet my brother and I that it would melt in a few days. We decided to take the challenge, not to win the quarter, but to prove that our mom wasn't always right about everything. As the days went by, all the snow melted, but not our snowman. It was funny to watch our snowman gradually shrink, until it was extremely deformed, but still intact to our mom's dismay. Eventually, after two weeks we could not recognize our malformed snowman, but at least he somehow managed not to melt. Our mom was a good sport about it, and called off the bet. My brother and I got our quarters, and the right to gloat for the rest of that winter.
Snow is not always the same every time it falls. Sometimes, it can be great packing snow, perfect for building snomwen and forts, or making snowballs to pummel my family and friends with. This type of snow makes a crunching sound when it is walked on. Other times, it is powdery, and easily falls apart in your hands, and under your feet. Powdery snow looks the prettiest when it has been on the gound for a few days, and sparkles in the sunlight. Snow is not always pretty, especially if it has been around for a few weeks, picking up dirt on the side of the road, eventually becoming a slushy mess. My family, friends, and I can always tell when snow is coming because the air has a crisp, clean smell. The sky will look almost completely white, with a hint of gray before the snow would start to fall. The feeling of anticipation that I experienced as a child when I would see this sky from the window in elementary school, and the first snowflakes of the season would start to fall, still makes me feel the same way. Thoughts about Christmas and Christmas break, snow days, and sledding would run through my head, until the school felt like a prison that was keeping me from the fluffy flakes, and all the fun they brought with them.
Sometimes, more snow will fall than the weather man predicts, which is always a good thing. The first year we brought home Champ, our brown and white Chihuahua, he could not wait to go outside and explore the strange white invader on our lawn. Our new puppy ran after my brother and I, but due to his small size of two pounds at the time, he fell into the deep snow. Suppressing our laughter, my brother and I waited for a minute to see what Champ would do next. First, a curly brown tail appeared from under the snow, and then his head emerged. Champ then proceeded to run around the yard like a maniac, constantly falling under the snow, to then emerge and start all over again. Now Champ is eight, and he is slowing down a bit, but he still acts like a puppy every year when the snow returns, for him to enjoy along with us. Besides our dog enjoying the snow, my brother and I will always find ways to annoy each other with it. For example, my brother and I will always try to throw a snowball at each other, when one of us is not paying attention. The resulting snowball fight is always hectic, with wet snowballs making a loud, slushy, thwacking sound as they hit not only each other, but the house, the mailbox, the car, and anything that gets in the way fo the crossfire. Sometimes, a snowball would hit me so hard in the face, that I could taste the bland, watery, cold, snowball in my mouth.
It is now nearly the end of September, and that familiar feeling of anticipation of the first snowfall, and Christmas, is slowly approaching. Like an old friend, the snow will always come back every year, bringing all the familiar sounds, and memorie with it. Snow is definately unique, with so many different appearances, uses, and textures. It can be crunchy, packing snow, that will always be good for building things, or beautiful powdery snow, that falls apart when touched. Snow can be cold, and slushy, making anyone with to get back into their warm house quickly. The clean, crisp smell that the next snowfall brings, always makes the feeling of anticipation for that possibility of a snow day grow. The thwacking sound a fresh snowball makes against your opponent in a snowball fight, makes anyone feel like a kid. When a snowball hits me in the face, and the cold, bland taste of the snow fills my mouth, my bother better duck for cover. I can always count on the snow to be that fun, unique, familiar thing to appear every winter, that everyone will enjoy.
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