SNOW

A childhood memory I will never forget, the time I traveled out of state and first saw snow.
Being only 11 years old at the time, I'm surprised I even remember the trip; yet, it was too fun to ever forget.
Christmas season, my brother and I packed our bags.
Dad was there, along with Mema and my Papa as captain of the ship.
Elbowing each other inside the Winnebago, all five of us journeyed jovially together.
"Forward on to Red River, New Mexico," we shouted, crossing the Houston city line.
Gallons and gallons of gas later, our enthusiasm had curbed.
Houston to Red River, we were packed like sardines, tightly sealed in; the drive took its toll on us.
It took a good 16 hours before we reached our destination, and by that time we were ready for bed.
Jumping out of bed the next morning, I ran outside letting the snowflakes drizzle down onto my tongue.
Knowing that I would get frost bite, I ran back inside to get dressed according to the elements.
Lacing up snow boots and putting on snow gloves were foreign events to us all.
Mother nature has a funny way of working;
Never before had I seen such a sight; yet, the locals thought nothing of all the white powder falling from the sky.
Over to the side of our cavern, we had our own snow skis waiting for us.
Priceless are those memories.
Quad bikes and roller blades were the only things I'd ever used, but they didn't hold a candle to what I was about to experience.
Riding the air like a bird in the sky, as I leaped over the mountain tops -- a feeling that should not be felt only once.
Skin so chapped, it seemed I had been at the beach all week; how was I to know of a thing called wind burn?
Together we ate and slept, but during the day we were off to our own delight in the snow.
Unfortunately, we couldn't stay and play forever, we had to pack up our things.
Vexed in my spirit, I cried and cried because I loved the feeling of snow.
We did what we had to do and bagged up as much white snow as the Winnebago freezer could hold.
Xanthic snow, the big joke in town, anyone who was foolish enough to fall for that joke deserved to eat it.
Yellow snow is not the fountain of youth, as some would viciously declare.
Zoetic comes from fond childhood memories like mine and staying away from the yellow snow.