This is truly the best snow person I have ever seen. EVER! She is sassy, artsy and has more spirit than I would ever expect snow to be able to hold. As snowpeople go, this little chick is hot! I love her style.
She was born to a couple of my neighbors. I don't know them but I believe that the woman is a fellow etsyian (see etsy.com...my site is www.loveellie.etsy.com...shop update on friday!) I have seen her outside photographing pocketbooks that she must make. I think she is fairly new to the area and we just haven't crossed paths yet. Both inside creating I guess.
But they were outside for some time, obviously. This little baby probably took all of the snow in the area.
With her fabulous evergreen bough hair and wild branch arms, I just want to hug her. Her slate gray eyes are rocks and her buttons are gum balls, fallen from the trees. Cheesy grin and a pastel scarf. I mean, really, can you stand how cute she is?
She is one of those moments that remind that no matter how magnificent something is, you can't hold onto it. That the way we keep our treasures is
in our hearts. I really wish I could keep her. I guess she will probably be gone tomorrow. Like a hibiscus flower. Here for a day.I am not big into artifical flowers. I don't like when something that is a snapshot of beauty becomes kin to furniture. Though I admit to having a few in the house...like the red paper poppies.
We were in London in Covent Gardens. We were looking for a place to stop for lunch and everywhere I saw people walking with small bouquets of red poppies. They were beautiful.
I stopped a man and asked where he got them and he simply pointed around the corner. We went quickly to see what was going on.
We turned the corner to see what equaled about 3/4s of a field of red poppies and little girls, 'picking' them and handing them to passersby.
My husband, his best mate and I all got a small bunch and I have them to remind me of that extraordinary moment. That one moment in time, when I was in London and little girls were handing out bouquets of cherry red poppies. I am looking at them now and the warm air of the courtyard rushes over my winter skin.
Yes, it is all about moments. When Friday comes, I will have my photos of the hippest snow chick ever. She will be gone but the artist that created her, that shared her with the world, will still be here, creating. The experience of snow chick will be with me long after they gather up her scarf from the wet ground. It won't be the same as seeing her. The memory will filter down through what I took away from my time with her. But maybe that's all that matters.
It's in the moment. It's always the moment. And that's all we will ever have.
How zen. Off to bed.
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