The first time I saw snow I was seventeen and in Washington DC. It began to snow and this was such a glimmering thrill for me I really couldn't contain my excitement so I asked someone to take a picture of me while it was snowing. I have a big goofy smile in that pic. But it was hardly any snow at all that night. There were sad little piles of slush around the corners of buildings where foot traffic didn't disturb it. Even though to me, it was snow. But then I went to Yosemite, where it was SNOW.
In Yosemite, I could sink into the snow up to my shins. For a Southern California girl from Huntington Park, the land of dirt backyards as playgrounds and laundry lines as jungle gyms, this is SNOW, REAL SNOW. It's not even about its beauty as much as snow is so unfamiliar, it made me feel like a kid again. Pretty exciting stuff.
I went with the intention of at least attempting to take some good, solid nature pics. I ended up being very, very distracted by just playing in the snow and it was worth it. So this is the more personal portion of the trip. Us, being kids in the snow. Two hundred ninety-two miles from home. Thirty-seven degree Fahrenheit. Three layers of clothing. Zero cares in the world. SNOW! This is it, the sum of all snow.