I’ve had many snowstorms in my lifetime. Blizzards and lake effect dumpings, heavy wet snows and light and fluffy snow globe snows, white-outs that scare the heck out of you and ever-lasting slow drifts that barely seem to pile up. You tend to grow used to it after awhile, but that first snow of the year is always magical. Having a few mild winters in a row, and snow this year taking forever to reach the part of New Hampshire I reside in, it just began to feel like we’d never get another good storm. So there’s delight when if finally arrives, tinged with calculations about cleanup, road conditions, viability of the power lines and how much bread and milk one might consume before it all spoils.

This first snow brings with it the perspective of a puppy, just nine months old, experiencing a heavy accumulation for the very first time. Now this in itself is appointment watching, as she steps timidly outside at this new world awaiting her, sniffs and licks at the white blanket and slowly steps ever deeper. My own obligations took a back seat as I watch her figure it all out. Eventually she grew bolder and began walking more quickly, and then in a spark of instinct or insight, began to prance like a deer through the drifts, ever faster. Soon she was running about the yard like it was her best day ever, and who was I to argue?

The thing about heavy snow days is you learn to time the cleanup, that you aren’t out in it all day long, but you aren’t letting it accumulate so much that it’s difficult to work with. There’s an efficiency to snow cleanup that is learned through experience. Whatever the perfect moment is, it feels like the entire neighborhood decides to go out at the same time. The nods and waves and getting back to the business at hand inevitably follow, like some scripted scene from a pharmaceutical company’s drug du jour commercial. We’re all keeping an eye on each other in a way, even as we mind our own business.

With all the responsibility of adulthood, sometimes we get caught up in the cleanup and calculations, and forget to just play in the snow. A new puppy, like children, teach us to delight in the wonder of a fresh snowfall. To roll about in it and clop through it and fly across it laughing at the sheer magic of the changed landscape. The cleanup is never the fun part, but we ought to remember the do fun part in our rush to clean up. Life deserves more magic and delight, don’t you think?