by Nicole Gomez


Lights on the city park stairs. Charlestown, Indiana. 2013.

Snow has always been one of my favorite things. Since it is now winter (finally), I thought I would write about it. The numbing cold of it, the freezing taste on the tongue. The minuscule difference between every flake, including how each one falls if you pay enough attention to notice. Snow is truly one of the most spectacular things I’ve ever seen.

Snow has been a recurring theme in most of my good childhood memories. Toddler-me and my older brother, Eric, being pulled on a sled by my father. Five-year-old me trying to convince Eric to join me in the once amazing activity of eating snow. Ten-year-old me tagging along behind Eric and his friends. Finally, last year, thirteen-year-old me walking through the spectacle that is Charlestown, Indiana.

I lived in Charlestown for a year exactly, moving back to my hometown just in time for my first year of high school. Frankly, the hick town of 7,000 could have been worse. The massive onslaught of Christmas lights in the town square certainly made up for their generally conservative upbringing, if you asked me.

Oh, dear reader. I wish you could’ve seen those decorations the way I did that winter.

They completely electrified my vision, as well as my heart and mind. There were bright lights everywhere you looked. Some were twinkling blue, red, and green. The others were casting a soft white glow against the snow as well as the dark sky. Never in my life had I felt so alive. Never in my life had I experienced something so irrevocably happy.

Truth be told, I wasn’t even the slightest bit bothered by the extreme cold that engulfed my senses. My nose ran, my eyes watered, and my hands dried up. Never had I been so comfortable. In that moment, I could’ve looked God himself in the eye and said that the vastness of the snow was all I needed.

I don’t believe that I’ll ever have a better memory than that freezing night in 2013. Our little town received so much snow that year, much to my delight. Memories will always come and go, forgotten as time inevitably passes. Despite that, I’ll always be excited for the first snow, because I’ll always have a place in my heart dedicated to winter.

Jeffersonville High School, 2019