Where October makes me think of fall and Halloween, December makes me think of winter and Christmas. Not Christmas the religious holiday, but the spiritof the holiday. Just as there is an aura or feeling that comes with Halloween, there is such a feeling for December too.

I was living in State College, Pennsylvania one December where I was working at the Home Depot. I opened in the mornings, which meant I had to be there at 6 a.m., and this morning while readying for work, I noticed it was snowing.

I don’t mind the snow as long as I’m not in it. I prefer to be sitting inside somewhere and admiring it from afar. Not this day though. In the kitchen making coffee to jumpstart my day, I glanced out the window and noted on the temperature gauge that it was minus 6 degrees as the large fluffy flakes slowly drifted to the already white blanketed grass.

I let out a heartfelt groan because I lived a mile from the Home Depot I worked at and was not thrilled about walking in the minus temperature while trudging through the snow.

I live in Arizona now, so that ought to tell you how I feel about snow and the cold. I don’t exactly hate the snow, but I definitely hate being cold. Hell, just thinking about being cold makes me shiver in reaction.

That day, I briefly entertained the thought of calling in sick, but the military discipline kicked in, and, sulking, I got dressed for work. Thinking only how miserable I was going to be out in that snowy cold weather, I put on layers of clothes to ward against the freezing temperature and snow.

Then I put on two pairs of socks followed by heavy boots, and I packed two more pairs of socks for when I got to work. I knew my feet were going to be soaked through and cold from the melted snow and low temperature.  I donned a very thick and heavy coat, followed by hat, gloves, and scarf, and I was ready to face the elements.

After groaning once more, I left the warmth of my home and took the first steps out into the frigid morning. The side walk was already buried in the fluffy powder—there was. at least three inches of the wet stuff–so I walked instead out onto the street, stopping in absolute amazement.

It was still dark, and there were street lamps lining the road on both sides. The soft falling flakes glistened like diamonds in the warm glow of the lights. The snowflakes sparkled, revealing a prism of colors as the light hit the different facets of the flakes.

Turning slowly around in a circle, admiring the scenery, I couldn’t help but soak in the sight of the mesmerizing show mother nature was putting on just for me this morning, or so it seemed. The minus temperature froze the snow flakes, turning them into ice flakes, and they glistened in the light like miniature Christmas tree lights. Sound was muffled by the dampened weight of the snow and made me feel like I was the only one awake at that time (I probably was too).

Looking up the street, all I could see were descending flakes of shimmering snowfall that danced and twinkled in the glow of the lamps. I forgot about the cold and forgot that I had a mile to walk. I was enraptured by the icy white world around me, and I couldn’t look or admire the scenery fast enough.

This was Christmas to me: rows of houses dressed in Christmas lights, gleaming brightly in the winter wonder land, while winking frozen drops of rain showed off in a dazzling display of glittering color as they free floated to the ground. These drops were highlighted in the backdrop of the lined street lamps soft golden rays of light, twisting and turning as they fell, and in the flashes of light the facets of colorful bursts of sparks revealed in that light.

I don’t know how long I stood there in the street just reveling in this glorious gift from mother nature, but I do know I was late to work.

Days like this define Christmas, where each day is a gift, a present waiting to be opened and enjoyed.