This was my old street, my old mailbox and the view from it. |
My old house, with the driveway all shoveled. |
Still on my street. |
My old street still. This was the day the movers came and took everything away. |
Snowy streets (near my old street). |
I miss the sound of the snow crunching under my feet, and the cold little touches the snowflakes make as they landed on my face and bare hands. I miss the numbness in my toes and fingers that practically never went away, because I never wore the right boots or I lost my mittens. I miss the look of untouched, freshly fallen snow, and the triumph of making the first footprints in it. I miss the temperature that, no matter how much I bundled up, instantly permeated all the winter clothing and sent chills down my spine. I miss the steam that breathing made all the time. I miss the winter so much.
A very large part of me wants to be in Calgary right now, enjoying winter. But I know that if I had never moved, I wouldn't have ever appreciated it as much as I do. I probably wouldn't get cold when it was a couple degrees below freezing either, but I can't help that as of now.
For now, I'm going to wait until it starts to either rain, sleet or snow.
--Lauren
[Around five months left!]
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