Snow.

The one word erects so many different emotions in just a simple word.

Growing up in the south, North Carolina to be specific, I always though snow was magical. I heard my parents' horror stories about why they hated it and those awful Michigan winters, but, for me, it was the only time I got to miss school and go out and be with all my friends. In North Carolina, most public school shut down at the first flurry they see. Now, you Northerners might be thinking we're stupid for not continuing, but here's why we don't do snow: Snow starts as rain, which turns to freezing rain, leaving a nice coating of ice which the dusting to 3 inches we might get covering the ice. Not to mention no one is used to driving on the stuff. So kids get a free day and parents either stay home, or get a baby sitter if their work didn't shut down for the day. No parent saw it as more then a hassle at first, but for us kids, it was like waiting for Santa. When you saw that first snowflake in the air, you're heart filled with joy and you squealed. The praying, and rituals of doing a snow dance with your siblings and sleeping with your pj's inside out and spoon under your pillow for the last few days worked! That snow flake meant you could make a snow angel and have a snow ball fight! The snowmen that littered neighborhoods all had their unique twist. I used to look at snow with such wonder.

Then I went to school up north.

The first snow fall I still had that same joy and magic flowing through my veins, waiting till 3 am when it was thick on the ground. We went out and sang "Let It Go" and shook trees. It was still new to me and I loved every second of it. Then a couple of months went by and I just happened to be in one of the largest snow falls in the Northeast in years. When you're surrounded daily by 6 plus feet of snow everyday, the snow loses it's magic and I started feeling sorry for everyone who lives in these areas. Snow is just weather to them. They never experienced the rush of seeing snow in the forecast, hearing how every store was out of bread, milk, and eggs like everyone decides french toast is for breakfast tomorrow. Sure, sometimes ice creates a cancellation or two, but I feel like that creates more panic then joy of closings. Winter is the opportunity for so much joy, and I think Northerners just don't understand because they never experienced the excited waiting like us Southerners did. And now I feel myself slipping into this.

I've been home for the holidays and have a flight scheduled for Monday. Instead of experiencing the trill my sister has, all I feel is worried I won't be able to make it back up North. I've lost the magic of snow. I don't know if it's growing up or moving to snow-country, but it's not the same.

I guess the moral I'm trying to get across is Southerners: never lose that joy of the snow and the magic you feel in your heart when a flurry comes down from the heavens. Northerners: Try thinking about those rare days when you did get a snow day, feel that, and when the snow gets you down or adult-like, remember those feelings and magic.

You can always use a little snow magic in your life! ;)