Memories of Flurries Scurry Through My Mind

It is about quarter of eight on a seemingly ordinary Monday in the month of November. And yet, a bit of magic seems to hang in the air, a feeling that only one thing can bring:

SNOW

That's right, tonight we had our first snowfall here in Winchester. What started as rain turned into that wonderful, flaky white stuff that settles anywhere cold touches. As the flakes fall and blanket the neighborhood, my memories are released.
There is something about snow that brings out the children in everyone. Kids and adults alike gather at windows to see if it is sticking, and are glued to the television, praying that school will be canceled, maybe even work. Men bring out their snow plows, children their snow-boots, and wives and mothers prepare hot beverages for those who venture out into the cold. I dislike winter immensely, for many reasons, but my heart still beats wildly at the prospect of the first snowfall.
Today, at even the mention of snow, I was jolted from my desire to hibernate with a sense of anticipation and excitement; SNOW! Everyone has many memories of snow, but there are a few specific ones that I would like to take a moment to share.
I still remember the first snow of my freshman year of college. I was spending the night in what we fondly referred to as 2East, the dorms at Peabody. My friends and I were staying up way too late, watching cartoon reruns and the weather channel. We were about to give up and go to bed (it was about 2am) when a student came running into the lounge, announcing that it was snowing. We shrieked with glee and leapt to our feet, grabbing whatever shoes were closest as we ran outside. I stood outside in my pajama pants and camisole, my friend George's fleece hanging off my body, arms outstretched and mouth opened wide, catching those first, clean flakes on my tongue. Our friend Audrey was from California, and this was her first experience with snow. "It's so cold!" she had exclaimed, and we laughed. Someone took a picture, I don't know who, but I'm glad they did (see above).
One of my strongest snow memories is also one of my fondest memories of my friend David. This was also my freshman year at Peabody, although it was much later in winter. The snow was coming down in buckets, filling Mt.Vernon Square and turning the normally gray city streets into a temporary winter wonderland. I waited outside my classroom excitedly, literally bouncing off the walls in excitement. David's class was let out and he left the room, talking with friends. Unable to contain myself, I leapt over, grabbing his hand in mine. "David it's snowing!" I shrieked, eyes wild with glee. "C'mon!" I dragged him away from his friends, and together we booked it down the spiral staircase, through the lobby, and out into the city street. Still dragging him by the hand, we crossed the street into the park where the grass was barely peaking out above the mounds of white. Letting go of his hand, I whooped and ran through the snow, slipping and falling. David laughed; he had such a nice laugh. I remember he made a snowball with his bare hands- I think he threw it at me, resulting in more laughter. I was cold, wet, my cheeks were flushed---and I was so happy.
And so I remember these times tonight with fondness, but my heart is a little sad too.
Because...

....a very small part of me.....

......wishes I could be in that moment again.