Under the Dome of this Snow Globe

I will always remember that snowfall. The clouds dumped the perfect blanket of white on the city, hiding the grit and grime beneath pure magic. I got wrapped up in it all, the excitement, and when I realized what it brought with it, you and me in the same city, I swooned. My grin was so big, the apples of my cheeks blinded me. I didn't care to see what was in front of me anyway, my gaze was set on that dazzling white horizon miles ahead and it's prospects. A dream of you and me.

Some nights later we sat under a pristine sky, the snow having melted away in the mild temperatures. We sat and listened to the Elvis Christmas record. What first I believed to be a sparkle in your eye I quickly realized was actually a single slowly falling snow flake. After it fell, I sat in disbelief, looked up to that sky, once so crystal clear you could see the entire galaxy, now disrupted by several little flakes of magic cascading down on us. They melted instantly on the heat of our cheeks.

How perfect. Like an image immortalized on the inside of a snow globe. My pounding heart and wild fire in my nervous system must have caused that globe to shake up, making all that carelessly drifting snow. That's when you muttered 'The snow's a good thing...It always points me in the right direction'.

You went on to talk about the mountains and your favourite winter activities, I chose to inscribe those words on the bottom of that globe, now sitting in the shelf in my memory museum.

In the adjacent days when Toronto received more snow fall than the past 3 Decembers combined, I watched each flake I could, dance in the sky on it's way down to the ground. Looking up, any that braved resting on my face would instantly melt on that finely concealed but still existing flush on my face.