The cold doesn't seem to affect this little guy in the least!

The cold doesn’t seem to affect this little guy in the least!

Although the custom has been to post a His Lens/My Pen the last Monday of the month, I figure this image is pertinent now. Who knows? We might have a spring thaw next week rendering this image irrelevant.  Yeah, right. The phrase a snowball’s chance in hell comes to mind. So with snowballs and snowmen on my mind, I thought I’d share this shot of a snowman I built last winter.

When I was a child, a snowstorm hit Atlanta. Real snow — white, freezing, six-pointed flakes — the whole megillah. I scooped and gathered ecstatically, piling handfuls of snow atop one another.  After a couple of hours, my first and only snowman measured about three inches high. Proud and chilled, I went in. He was gone by afternoon.

Up here in the Klondike, snowmen are part of the landscape. I try and build one every season. Those who know me know I’m not, I repeat not, partial to the cold. I’m not one of those who eagerly awaits the brisk turn of fall to break out all my sweaters. But I do love making snowmen.

There’s a wild abandon that comes with making my snowman. Not only do I feel like a child, but I connect to the particular experience of being a Southern child caught up in the utter magic of once-in-a-lifetime winter wonder. Delight bubbles up. I laugh. I drop all curmudgeonly complaints about frigid temps, shoveling, and developing those awful skin cuts around my thumbnails.

For however long it takes, or however long I can stay out there, I am a child once again — happily patting handfuls of snow into place, stopping every now and then to sweep a snow angel or two into existence. Reconnecting with that inner child puts everything else into perspective. I am totally present, at complete attention full and exuberant. Time may wait for no man, march on and leave crow’s feet behind. When I am making a snowman, or having fun in any way, time vanishes and a regenerating life force fills the space.

So go have some fun — whether of the snow kind or another. And if you know someone who needs to remove his or her grownup mask and rediscover that inner child, send them a link to this column. Or send them this card from our Etsy shop. It’s going to be a long winter. Best to season it with some fun.