Opening sleepy eyes in my darkened bedroom, I sensed that something was different. As my eight year old lanky legs eased themselves from the cosy warmth of my heavy quilt and I lifted my still tired head from my still warm pillow, my mummy opened the door, grinned and rushed towards the window. Drawing open the heavy velvet curtains she shrilly announced, "Get up quickly - it's snowing!"
Bursting with sudden energy, I found myself by her side. At this point the house was swarming with life, my six year old sister jumping up and down on the bed and me marvelling that Jack Frost had not only left his finger prints on the window pane but he'd also dropped his big sack of snowflakes all over the garden and fields behind our house!
"Quickly, get washed and dressed and you can play for a wee while outside before school."
The race was on for the bathroom. A quick wash and we were gone, like tiny adventurers off to explore a wintery wonderland!
Eyes straining against the blinding whiteness, my sister and I along with our little brother tumbled out the back door and swiftly grabbed handfuls of the fluffy white stuff. Silent snowflakes slowly tumbled all around us as we tramped our footprints over the soft virgin ground and watched entranced as cloudy puffs of breath escaped from our chilled lungs.