He’s looking at little droopy with his nose falling flat and his hair starting to freeze and fall out. The shell buttons are on the ground, and he only has one stick for an arm. He’s leaning slightly to the right and his smile is no where to be found.
This is the life of a snowman in Massachusetts.
Frosty, as he was named by my granddaughter, came to life ten days ago. The adults had to roll three hard packed snowballs across the snow before lifting them onto the dock, but the rest was done by the kids. There might have been some adult help in the securing of materials but it really was the kids crafting the design and placement of the features. Regardless he has been joyfully gracing his lakeside abode and adding contentment to my view each morning. He has changed a little with the weather, melting ever so slightly with the daytime sunshine, and freezing up with the nighttime air. And he has been repaired a few times over these days too: touching up his hairdo, replacing the dropped buttons, and even picking up his smile. Yet he stands with pride and honor at the ready to give our neighbors a smile.
On this rainy Tuesday he looks vulnerable, defenseless, and exposed. Yet his presence still brings a smile to my face as I recall the delight and smiles of bringing Frosty to life.
Please, oh please Frosty, stay a little longer. We all need a little more happiness!
It’s Tuesday and I’m sharing my post with the wonderful writing community over at Two Writing Teachers. Take a peek and consider joining in!