The noise, loud exclamations coming from a small sturdy child in a pale pink with purple pockets and purple collared snow suit. She had red cheeks, pink Hello Kitty fleece hat on crooked and large brown eyes once she got close enough. Her words never stopped, but they weren’t always understandable even though there was lots of volume. Her mittens were snow encrusted and pulling themselves off her hands. She pushed one back on and then attempted to clear the brunette chunk of wet hair from her mouth after it had escaped from Hello Kitty coverage. She was playing in the wet packing snow of the front yard of her family’s white ranch style home on this sunny, mild winter’s day. The family’s chocolate, pudgy, wildly leaping year-old lab interfering with her snowman making plans. And she was yelling at her dog with much animation and little effect.
Seeing a known neighbor, she wanted to know if I would help her roll some snow balls to build a snowman. I said my gloves weren’t very good for this kind of wet snow. She immediately ran at high-speed to the house for a sturdier pair. She came back out the garage door still talking and still running. Her dog hopping and weaving beside her, but never knocking into this dynamo of motion.
We rolled snow, picking up grass and leaves and sticks as she exclaimed about her love of things purple and the size of the snowballs and whether we’d be able to pick them up. I asked if we should also make a dog snowman. She thought this was an odd idea, but quickly agreed and began rolling more snow, further and further looping paths on the lawn, her snow boots sometimes loosening on her feet, but never quite falling off. Finally accomplished, snowman with grass stained features and snow dog promptly sat on, bounced on and jumped on and crushed into an indistinguishable pile all to delighted laughs and then mild dismay since I would not help make another and I was leaving, headed on my walk down the gravel, snow-covered road.