The snow started falling yesterday afternoon, transforming a typical gloomy December day into a winter wonderland.  Mac and I walked in the snowy evening hour, looking up at the sky until the flakes stung our eyes.  He kept saying with wonder that “there’s a ceiling and it’s falling in on me!”  It was, as I called it, an optical delusion.  Like the snow, the wordplay went right over his head, and why shouldn’t it?  He wasn’t wearing his coat, though I pleaded lightly with him to put it back on.  “No, I’m good… I want to feel the cold.”  I felt the cold with him, sympathetically, under my layers of grownup thinsulate.   ‘Tis the season for enjoying life, short-sleeved in a snowglobe, and letting the snow hit ya in the eye.  Such is the good life in Southwest Michigan.  We all knew it was coming.  Might as well bounce around and enjoy with the wisdom and resolve of an 11 year old.

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