There is something magical about waking up to a white world outside your window. Normally snow would not make me wax romantic but on a day when nothing is pending it's lovely.
I stood and looked out the window this morning in the predawn glow and watched the snow fall gently past the panes. The scene was soft and dreamy. Snow collecting on the fence posts, a little top hat of snow on the top of the wind chimes hanging from a branch in the tree, the dark caves of an evergreen highlighted by white drifts of powder. Wind caught and blew veils of snow across the yard.
Instead of cars I imagined horse drawn sleighs traveling the road with jingle bells ringing merrily. I'm hopeless!
Later after pulling on multiple layers and warm socks I went outside with the dogs, They love to run and jump in the snow, chase birds... but they are quick to want to go back inside. I stay out and take pictures. I sweep the stairs and then go and shovel the front walkway. It is light, fluffy snow.
I put a pot of homemade chicken soup on the stove. Thick with egg noodles, carrots and onions and big chunks of garlic it is perfect snow day food.
I have to laugh watching the local news with their "Winter Storm Warning" and their dramatic coverage of ...wait for it...5" of snow. Five whole inches. Of course I am rather jaded after living in the Sierra Nevada mountains for 14 years. It's all about perspective. Let's talk 4', that is Four Feet in ONE DAY! I remember days when I drove with my head out the window to see the road because it was a white out. I once drove 7 hours in a blizzard to fly out of the airport in Reno, NV. By January you couldn't even see the house. We tunneled in or out as the case may be, literally. When you get to the point that when you toss a shovel full of snow and it comes down on your head because you can't throw it high enough anymore then talk to me about living in snow country. You adapt and learn to live differently. It's not easy. The snow could be very wet and heavy as cement. It's no fun getting on the roof with an axe to chop the ice dams out. It's a lot of work. On the other hand I also remember having parties where we'd hollow out a piece of the snow bank by the front door and load it with soda's, beer and wine bottles. Self serve as you enter. A friend remembers driving up to the house and seeing the light shining through the windows and he thought it looked so welcoming and warm. The house was warm from the wood stove and good cheer. There is nothing quite like walking through the forest during a snowfall. The sound of wind through pine trees. Utter peace and quiet and of course the beauty; the tracks of animals and birds in the snow; snow and ice glistening on every surface; the ice patterns in the creek that flowed behind the house; the eyes of a coyote looking down into the living room from the top of the snow bank one morning.
So it is all a matter of perspective really. You can choose to see the beauty in every moment.
"Advice is like snow, the softer it falls, the longer it dwells
upon, and the deeper in sinks into the mind."
-Samuel Taylor Coleridge
