Snow-phoria

I am pleased to report that it's possible to have an "It's good to be alive and I really appreciate the great things in my life" moment without it being some kind of religious epiphany. Today I experienced Snow-phoria!! (Medication free)

I discovered (after an uncharacteristically positively mood-ed week) that snow brings the best out of people - although I suppose I can only speak for myself. Wearing my sparkly pink wellies, gloves and scarf, I set out into the snow. I meandered down a residential street full of Christmas card houses and confused cats, the crunch of fresh snow under my feet. "What a great opportunity" I thought to myself. "I'm not working so I can get up at 10, have a cup of coffee, check my emails and go for a walk in the snow. How lucky am I?" Infused with positivity, my walk became more blissful with each step. How rare it is to have a moment in your life where everything is literally perfect. No deity was attempting to address me through the snow, blackmailing me into thanking it for my perfect moment.

I kept walking down the idyllic street. A tree inconveniently unloaded a branch full of snow onto my head. Instead of swearing at the tree, I grinned like a crazy fool and kept walking.

The huge park at the top of the road is pretty, but bland. The snow had transformed it into a scene out of a Disney movie. Mums and Dads, seemingly with no jobs to go to, frolicked in the snow with their kids, building snowmen. The kids wore multi-coloured scarves and hats and mittens. Schoolgirls wearing flat shoes and skinny scarves threw dainty snowballs at each other. I waxed lyrical to myself about how beautiful it all was and took a picture of snowman wearing an actual scarf and hat.

After coffee, I wondered into a designer clothes shop. The sales girl complemented me on my pink wellies. "Thanks" I said. "They were only 8 quid!" She looked at me, stunned for a second that anything could cost 8 quid. She probably doesn't expect change from a tenner when she gets her skinny latte in the morning.

As I stroll home down the same street that had been responsible for inducing my Snow-phoria earlier, I hear a drill screaming against concrete. A car revs its engine and a baby squalls. The snow has started to melt away and I have to zig-zag across the street in search of fresh, untrodden snow to crunch. As I reach my front door, it starts to rain. The snow will be gone for good soon. I feel sad for the first time today. Then I remember how good I felt before, when everything was absolutely perfect. The snow-phoria hasn't completely gone away...