I grew up across the street from a golf course. Snow meant sledding. There was always a hole in the chain link fence we could slip through to reach the adrenaline rush that lay beyond. I loved the snow. I always dreamed of a White Christmas. Unfortunately we didn't get too many.
Last December my take on snow was a bit different. Heavily pregnant and stuck inside my house with a road like a sheet of ice, the reality of snow, particularly in a country that doesn't get it all that often, was less inviting. (Though even that didn't stop Chris and me going for a wander and a play).
But last week snow really reclaimed its magic. Frozen precipitation was our family delight.
This post is for The Sticky Fingers Gallery, prompt 'White'.