After what seemed like days of watching the snow fall outside, I dressed to have some excitement in the deep drifting piles of snow. I stepped out the door and immediately noticed the blue of the sky. It was a deep tone, almost purple, much like the purple of the Mediterranean waters. I wondered why it was so striking. Maybe it was because the brilliant white had covered everything in sight making the blue sky glow bright with color.
I stepped onto the area that I presumed was the driveway, laboring with each lifting of the leg as I made my way to the pool deck. The snow had drifted up to the top of the deck, five feet off the ground, and my mission was to climb to the top platform and jump into the drifts, almost as if I we skydiving into the air. The winter air was bitter and trudging along took much effort, but the fun was nearby and my siblings and I had been cooped up for days so we didn’t care. We made it to the top and neared the edge. The soft snow looked so inviting that jumping without thinking seemed easy.
1 – 2 – 3 jump!
I closed my eyes and with a swift leap I propelled myself into the air, quickly landing into a deep pile of snow.
When I finally opened my eyes I realized that I was buried in snow and had to paddle my way out of the bank of white that surrounded me. Apparently none of us had the foresight to think about how we’d get out of the drift, and while I don’t recall it being scary I do know that none of us jumped off the deck more than that one time. Maybe one jump into the five foot drift was enough a memory to last a lifetime.
Footnote: This small moment story was inspired after reading John Rocco’s Blizzard. I celebrated my 19th birthday during the storm – another story for another day – and still young enough to enjoy the powdery fun left behind by that blizzard of ’78.
I am once again joining the wonderful community of writers over at Two Writing Teachers for Slice of Life Tuesday. Check it out and consider joining in too!