Men and Angels

The swirling flakes, like millions of tiny fairies dancing across the sky, are bouncing against my window pane as if to say hi, inviting me to the party.  Resting on the rooftops, the trees, the ground, creating blankets of powdery goodnness and turning my world white.   These minature sparkling conduits connecting us to far away places, bringing smiles to our faces and making us exclaim words of delight.  "It's so pretty!" I hear the six year old voice saying in my head, the voice that resurfaces at special times like these.  Times of whimsy and childlike tomfoolery, when anything is possible and the seriousness of life takes a vacation.  When Men and Angels wait to exist from the creative minds of the children at play.  And squeals of excitement from the determined ice pelters (and dodgers) can be heard far and wide.  When the cares of the day can be washed away as we stand in the glittering shower of white.  It's snowing.