As kids we never considered our snowmen monoliths; looking back, I realize they were. Never mind technicalities; so they weren’t stone and were going to melt away – we worshiped, named and danced around them with wild abandon.

Limited only by depth and quality of snow, wet mittens or dinner time – no patch of snow escaped snow rolling. Snowmen were always the last thing to melt – packed tightly, gargantuan blocks of winter magic enduring long past mere snow drifts or covered roof tops. Sometimes – if we were lucky – puddles of winter’s first snowman hung in until spring.

There’s no doubt in my mind – snowmen were monoliths. Worshiped, revered, tended to and presented with offerings.

The first historical image of a snowman – a book dated 1380 called the Book of Hours –

For centuries snowmen have dotted winter’s landscape; ponder why we’ve always made “man” and not rabbits or foxes. It never occurred to us that snow was meant for any other purpose. If that’s not worthy of monolith designation, I don’t know what is.



    Photos by my husband –