Snow and Innocence

I am sure that anyone that knows me, knows that I cannot stand snow. I don't like the cold. I don't like the lasting wetness it brings. I don't like waiting in a foot of it waiting for my bus. But I have been watching oodles of Lost lately, and it makes me find symbolism everywhere.

As much as I hate snow, I love the purity of it. A tabula rasa, if you will (told you I watch a lot of Lost). I love the fact that my bedroom faces my backyard and I can see the snow-covered rocks and trees. Snow means innocence, something people say I have. So it may seem ironic that I don't like the snow. But then again, it all depends on how you measure innocence.

For me, I measure innocence in Santa Claus. Once you find out he doesn't exist, that's the end. Christmas loses its magic and there is no way to gain it back. It is the point of no return.

So back to snow. I used to enjoy playing with it, until I realized I was playing alone. Although I did play in it with my darling sister-in-law and had a blast, so I do accept the fact that snow is not bad with company.

Another thing I love about it is the simplicity of it. If it snows too much, you are happy because you have no school/work/etc. and that is simple. You get stuck in your house and you can't worry about those responsibilities because that'd be useless. It is also calming in a way, just to be stuck indoors.

I think the reason I like the idea of snow is that I'm jealous of the purity. I wish that I could go back to when the only thing I worried about was coloring in the lines. I wish I could go back to when I was never without a smile. I wish I could believe in Santa Claus.