Yet more snow photos

My DS-11, the one who is too cool to have photos taken, begged me to take some shots of him, his brother and the neighbor child playing on their sledding hill.
This is, after all, the whole point of snow when you are a child. You don’t worry about driving on slushy roads, paying the power bill or mopping up puddles. Snow means a new toy.
When I see my boys climbing up and sliding down the same small hill all day long it brings back memories of my own childhood doing the same thing. I don’t recall if it was just one year, or if it was something that happened every year, but I do remember building snow caves in the piles of packed snow outside our driveway, too.
The inside of these caves were somewhat mysterious, a shadowy light filtered through the snow to make them a strange blue white color.
I suppose this was a somewhat dangerous practice. We could have been caught in a tunnel collapses, frozen our fingers, been hit with a flying shovel. But we didn’t care, we were kids, we were bullet proof, we were having fun.
My children have school, and soccer, and Scouts. Yet I wonder if a moment they will remember with the greatest fondness was the day they built a hill by the driveway in the front yard and used shovels as sleds
This is why I like snow, in spite of the cold, and the puddles and the high electric bills. I like snow because of memories of hot chocolate after a cold day digging caves and riding down hills on bits of cardboard.
I think this is why my children will love snow, too.