Thoughts of ice are immediately followed by thoughts of ice cream, and how I can bite into it while my friends squirm at the idea. Ice reminds me of elementary school where any minor malady would be met with an ice pack that would last you an hour at best, and would be promptly turned into a sack of water that would somehow find its way into the grubby hands of another 7 year old. I also think about the ice spikes that hang from the roof after a snowstorm, and how fun it is to break them off.
My perception of snow is that it’s almost as versatile as water. I remember when I used to play outside in the snow as a kid. Depending on what type of snow it was and how long ago it snowed, snow differed quite a bit. If it was watery snow, then I couldn’t do much and ended up going back inside. If the snow was cold enough, and I got outside soon after it snowed, and that’s when my sister and I would have snowball fights. If the snow had been left out for a while, it was unforgiving as if to say, “This is what you get for waiting so long”, and it came off in hard chunks.
