Daisy Nelle Memories

Her First Glimpse of Snow

When I was a little girl, I would think of Christmas and I would often imagine snow. And perhaps that blanket of white wouldn’t appear exactly to the day, but it would always be around that time. And when I would sing along to lyrics that hoped that “all your Christmasses {would} be white”, I wouldn’t stop and think, hang on – Christmas Day was sunny and mild this year.

I woke that morning and I headed to the bathroom. First up, in desperate need of a shower to wake me up and warm me up, and I noticed flutters outside our bathroom window. Privacy glass does things to your mind, so I opened it up and I was hit with a blast of cool air. And then a smile grew on my face. It was snow.

That morning, Bill could barely contain his excitement as he stuffed cereal into his mouth and I rushed about trying to find a matching pair of gloves and mittens for him. We skidded out onto the driveway, a rush of buggy, bags and layers of warmth. And I never even stopped to introduce my baby daughter to the snow.

She squished her face up at the cold air and watched the sight around her with simple curiosity. While I pushed on and felt the occasional snowball hit my coat as my son and his best friend hurtled down the snowy pavement just ahead of us.

I turned to my friend Suzanne (Bill’s best friend’s mum) and said: “Do you think, if we all signed a petition, to make December into January and so on, that we might get a white Christmas again?” And she laughed and we reminisced of those festive, frosty days – just like the ones we used to know.

And, once the boys were dropped off, and we parted at the top of my drive. It was only then I stopped and scooped up my daughter and said: “Come on baby girl. Let’s introduce you to snow.”

I waved to her dad as he worked from his desk at home, and he smiled as I placed her gingerly onto the cold ground. She didn’t much mind at first. She simply looked down, and then looked up, and grinned. Her little fingers tickled the white ground and she startled at how cold it was.

I welled up. This past week would have, and should have been the week I returned to work full-time. And yet here I was, I’d taken a chance and I was working for myself and I wasn’t missing moments. I was simply working around them.

Just at that moment, I heard voices, as I crouched in the snow and snapped away at my baby girl as she explored. And when I looked up, I saw my mum and auntie, rosy-cheeked from a dog walk, along with three said dogs.

My mum got to see her little granddaughter as she got her first glimpse of snow, and Daisy got to say hello to three dogs, which is pretty much the equivalent of Christmas for my animal-loving daughter (could she be just like her brother, and will we have toy animal fights ahead?).

This was just a small memory. But one I’m so glad I managed to capture all the same.

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1 Comment

  • Reply
    Lisa Dixon
    30th January 2017 at 10:53 pm

    ♡ gorgeous photos. And again, beautiful words. I think I may have found a new guilty pleasure. xx

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