It snowed today

I got to walk home in it. Big, heavy wet flakes. The kind that are perfect for snowballs and snowmen but lousy for skiing. The kind that are ideal for catching on your tongue, that are straight out of the magical ending of a Hollywood Christmas movie.
It's the kind of snow that brings you back to your childhood, if you let it, assuming you had snow in your childhood. And even if you didn't. Yes, I know, snow sticks to the roads and your car and you have to clean off the windshield and shovel the walk and the grocery store is full of people stocking up on toilet paper and milk and you'd skip it but you are actually legitimately out of milk or bread or toilet paper or tampons or microwave popcorn or whatever it is you stopped in to buy, and now you have to drive home in the snow and you are the only person in the world who can drive competently in this particular kind of precipitation. But if you forget all that for a second, and really take a moment to look and listen to the snow, you can remember what it felt like to think the world was full of magic, when you believed in Santa and the tooth fairy and knights in shining armor rescuing princesses from high towers. The pure, silent sound of the snow falling, muting everything around. The snow remaking the world into something new and different, full of wonder.
I thought of sledding trips and snuggling in the bed with Mom and Dad listening to the radio hoping we'd all get a snow day. And coming in after playing in the snow to eat chicken noodle soup and drink hot cocoa and get all defrosted.