A multitude of different sized flakes of snow began falling outside my bedroom window this morning. As the sun rose, the crisp air I breathed in refreshed my soul. The snowflakes were gracefully making their way to the objects they were destined to land on—leaves, branches, grass—every object anticipating the small drops of perfect ice to land on their different textures.

I watched for a while—not expecting the snow to accumulate—but two hours later I noticed the ground was white. I was standing there at my bedroom window watching this perfect scene happen before me. I began to notice though something wrong, the leaves on the trees were not spring-green. Instead, I noticed they were deep red and orange. I thought this was strange so I began to look more closely.

I drank up the view from my window as if it were a glass of cold ice water, or even better, the lukewarm English breakfast tea I had in my hand. Every different perspective quenching my thirst. The fall colors against the snow this morning were beautiful. Winter is so often a grey and white season that when it collides with other more colorful seasons, the result is striking. This morning was one of those moments truly picture-worthy so that when it is all gone, you could go back and remind yourself that something perfect, on Earth, does actually exist.

Readers, there are some things wrong with this picture I have painted for you. First, I didn’t wake up to snow this morning—that landscape out my bedroom window only exists in my subconscious, I dreamt that last night. My dream was so vivid, I wish I could have taken a picture. Secondly, I wouldn’t have been able to capture that moment with a camera. Not only was it in a dream but to tell you the truth I am stunningly bad at documenting my life in pictures—it all moves too fast. But I’ll assure you this: that dream, and basically the rest of my everyday life, is a lot of fun these days. All the mental pictures I snapshot will one day hang in imaginary galleries.

This past weekend I went to my first-ever prom. I experienced one of the long-awaited “Lemons of Life” or how everyone else calls it a rite of passage. My night was perfect. There are no words in the English language to describe how perfect. You see, this prom was special to me. I was able to spend one night with all my old friends from my elementary school—the kids I grew up with. The kids that witnessed Uptown Maven as who she really is—the compassionate, sensitive, corky, unique, nerdy but social, Jesus-loving girl everyone knew her to be. Even though those traits still live inside me today, they do not come out as much. It happens to the best of us—we grow up.

Last Saturday though, those traits were ever so prevalent. I got to be the short girl with perfectly cut bangs again, the fun-loving person that only comes out with the people I feel most comfortable with. Not only did I enjoy seeing my friends, but the young man who asked me made the night extra special. We, yes, danced but not to the point of exhaustion and looking disheveled and sweaty. We simply enjoyed each others company by taking in not only the surroundings but all the other aspects of prom. Prom was at Seaworld so we were able to go up in the sky tower and take in the beautiful night sky of San Diego. The perfect twinkling stars and the nighttime breeze was refreshing. The colors in the sky were a silver spring, different blue-green colors flashing and as I looked up at the sky holding my date’s arm I became the shining, deep autumn ocean crashing—it was one of those moments, the ones you can’t take a picture of. One of the moments that will forever have a spot in my imaginary galleries.

So readers this week I am sorry to say but I don’t have much for you regarding food or fashion. I have been occupied with finals and as you know, prom, but I promise you next week will be better.

As winter slowly sheds its colors and trades dull grays and stark whites for everlasting green and baby pinks, the bright pallets remind me that summer is close. The nights where you find yourself mentally snapshotting the bonfire in front of you, or the bright summer sky that reflects itself off the turquoise pool.

This week, I walked through a pool of water, once all the snow from my backyard had melted, to see a shadow of a warmhearted girl. I was reminded of my roots by spending time with the people that really know me. I was hit with a wondrous adventure—whether it be looking out my window to a snow covered ground or the twinkling midnight sky. I found a renewed awe of how things work in mysterious ways… People are put into your life at the perfect moment, when we most need them.

Looking back on it all, I think I found a piece of myself that was missing, a piece of home. I think that piece of home was found just by paying close attention to detail, and by reminiscing with the people who might have been awaiting my journey back all along.

Faithfully and lovingly, Uptown Maven