Let’s talk snow, reader people.

More specifically, books about snow.

I’ve got a story to tell you concerning two particular books about snow. I hope you are prepared for a tale of anticipation, heartbreak, adventure, sweet revenge, warm fuzzies, and soaking wet boots. Well, all that except maybe the sweet revenge. But you never know when revenge will strike, so maybe such a plot twist will come to pass within this post. Who knows what could happen!

Now, let’s begin:

A few days, maybe a week, before Christmas I took two of my younger siblings to the bookstore. We spent a lot of time wandering around enjoying the company of stories. We were all three determined not to buy any books. Afterall, Christmas was right around the corner.

The other two held strong.

I didn’t.

There were two books in particular that I had seen and desperately wanted. At first I did hold strong. I made it all the way home, but when I confessed to my own mother that I had found not one, but two books that my soul could not be complete without she asked me why I hadn’t used the gift card a friend had given me the month before for my birthday. That was about all the encouragement I needed to drive back to the bookstore and buy two new books for myself.

One of these books was a small little book about snow. The cover was wonderful, the size was adorable, the format looked amazing, and I have a special fascination with snow. So I bought it. The title, for your information is The Little Book of Snow by Sally Coulthard. It was on a display with Christmassy books of a wide variety and I feared that if I didn’t get ahold of it then and there my chance might be lost. And besides, I had a gift card!

Fast forward to Christmas (I hadn’t yet started the snow book) and I got a book by Jessica Day George titled Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow. The title, along with the snowy cover, looked like the perfect winter read. The perfect fictional novel to complement my informational little book of snow.

A day or two after Christmas I started both books. The weather was forecasting snow over night and I was excited for such a foreign possibility. Reading books about snow seemed like the logical thing to do. That night I decided that I would start both books and be well into them by morning when I would get up to a blanket of snow – or at least a skiff – and if I got up early enough I could read even more of my cozy snowy stories before I had to start my day. Sitting there, imagining the following morning’s snow, was a delightfully way to spend my evening. I had a blanket, a lamp to read by, and the house was uncommonly still. It was perfect.

I went to bed eager to get up. Eager for snow – the first snow this winter. Eager to read more of my snow-centered books.

But what did I wake up to? In the words of one younger brother: glorified frost.

Not at all what I had imagined.

I was so irritated that I refused to pick up either wintery book.

You see, I have grown up in a place where snow is quite the novelty. A few inches literally shuts down the whole city because there are very few snowplows and no one is very skilled at driving in such foreign weather conditions. Any snow is exciting, and much anticipated. The possibility is hovered over our heads by optimistic weathermen, but very rarely does it seem to actually manifest itself. And when the snow does come. . . well, you’d better hurry and enjoy it because it won’t last long. The snow is measured not in inches, centimeters, or feet, but time. The average snowfall is melted by lunch. An impressive storm lasts a day or two. Our glorified frost was gone by mid-morning, but there was barely anything to begin with, so I don’t even think that counts.

By the next evening I had chilled out from my pout and was done avoiding my books.

Both the novel and the small book of snowy information were tantalizing and oh so foreign to my dessert heart. The trolls and enchanted polar bears in Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow were the same level of fantastical as actual snow. I could imagine snow; I just couldn’t experience any of my own.

I found myself researching all sorts of Nordic things one evening – particularly their folk art. I was falling deeper and deeper down a rabbit hole. An artic rabbit’s hole. Even now as I write this post, all things snow and Nordic have become my latest fixation and I can’t seem to get enough.

Now, I could have finished both books quite a bit sooner, but I was savoring them. I wanted them to last. One does not chow down on a bag of fancy chocolates, and both these books were something similar to chocolate in my mind. (Besides, the week after the new year is a week of cleaning. It’s a holiday, don’t you know? And that doesn’t leave tons of endless time for reading of ice castles and fauns.)

But as I was nearing the end of Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow, I couldn’t make it last any longer. I had to get to the end. I would finish it on the car ride, I decided as my family prepared to leave town. I figured that the car ride would give me enough time to finish one, if not both books. But, as fate would have it, I was once again kept from my imagined Nordic bliss. I had an eye appointment that morning and with my eyes dilated I couldn’t see the words. By the time I could see well enough to read the light was quickly fading and only a few pages were all I could enjoy before the sky grew completely dark.

But then, upon arriving at our destination I realized that we were surrounded by snow. Actual snow!

Only problem was that we couldn’t get down the long driveway to our warm destination because of this magical creation. It was dark, cold (but not so much as I expected), and we had a dilemma on our hands. By the way, the stars were brilliant, but I didn’t point this out to anyone else as I thought they might not appreciate such comments in our problematic moment.

So that night, even though we could not get down to the cabin to enjoy reading by the soft glow of the fire, I got to enjoy actual real live snow (well, not exactly live, because that would just be kind of creepy). To my delight I was an assistant in an attempt to get our family’s minivan unstuck from the snow. And to my greatest enjoyment I was able to help by stomping on the snow and dealing with snow in a very hands-on way. There was some slipping and sliding but in the end the van got unstuck and down the long driveway.

After experiencing snow for myself (not for the first time of course) I went inside and read about a nameless lass hiking through snowy mountains (somewhat like the woods I was in) to free her captive prince.

I finished Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow the morning after arrival, with a snowy winter scene right outside my window. And I was grateful that I had not finished until I could enjoy of bit of snow for myself.

The second book, The Little Book of Snow, I finished the same day. It was magical in another way. There is something wonderful about reading a comprehensive science and history of snow and then going outside to enjoy it yourself. It was indescribably fun to read about how snow works with a snowy meadow of your own right there to enjoy if so desired.

 

Having at last finished my snow books, I pulled on my boots and gloves and skipped outside to enjoy it hands on. To celebrate the wonderous beauty of it all I took one of my little brothers on a walk through the snow and attempted to photograph the beauty.

If you made it through that whole post, thank you! It was kind of a rant, but hopefully it amused you slightly.

Weather you are enjoying the snow or sunshine, I hope you are able to take a minute and appreciate the beauty of it all. And I hope your winter readings are magical and warm!