“Winter’s my favourite though. Stars are snow. Flakes that haven’t yet fallen to earth, tiny white frozen fires descending from the sky in lovely twirls. I joined them, in pirouettes and leaps across the yard, trying to get one to land in my opened hand — I imagined, the whole day, sitting inside, a wee girl looking out, all ways, always, even when it wasn’t a blizzard.”
“One winter night I dreamt of cold little suns landing on each of my fingertips — in slow motion I saw their icy coronas melting into every whorl. I woke up that morning to see sparkles in the thousands, a whole flattened galaxy, a snowy Milky Way on the ground and which I so longed to walk upon, like a wizard.”
“A wonder to walk, wipe a drip from lips after a summer ice cream… So I’ll never hold snow, now I know, or a baby or even a balloon, or ever hand out Easter eggs or unwrap a Halloween candy (my hands such terrible weather, tiny tornados), and there’s no catching a bouquet or leading a Mardi Gras parade (though take note of these gorgeous legs!), and of course no jumping about like a silly goat like the little ones.”
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