Living in Alabama means that snow never ceases being infused with magic. Our road trip towards Colorado left even the King a little flushed with worry. "Kids," he said somberly, driving away from Denver, "I just want you to know that there might not be snow at Keystone."
"Oh, don't worry- there will be snow," I insisted.
The Prophet observed that there was no snow on the ground right now, and we only had one hour left to drive. But I pretended like something mysterious might account for the possibility of snow in our very near future. Of course, the likelihood seemed small, but it wouldn't help to focus on it. Nothing worse than glum, disappointed little people before the cause for disappointment has even been verified.
Once we got to Loveland Pass, the snow and ice covered the ground. It was late, so all we saw was the glare of white in the dark beyond. But we woke up in the morning to undulations and hills of snow.
It was more beautiful than I remembered. Even our exclamations sounded different, as if prolongated or preserved by the frozen water. Snow brings joy and wonder, as well as relief to parents who hope to keep the awe coming for their kids.
