Snow

Snow

They are magic– those first few, floating flakes.

Snow

They fall, soft as featherdown.  If you are very quiet you can hear them softly giggling.  Your breath is a moment of warmth hanging motionless in the air.

Snow

Time seems to stop.  Traffic is gone.  Noise disappears.  The world is soft, quiet, peaceful.  The scars of the earth are hidden beneath a sparkling blanket of perfection.  The world becomes a living snowglobe.  The most ordinary things become magic.

Snow

If you listen very closely, you can hear the snow falling.  Thhhhhhhhhh.  It sounds like that.  Thhhhhhhhh.  Like the breath of angels.

Snow

Shoveling it seems almost a travesty.  So you leave it a while, just to enjoy.  The kids break out the snow gear and start building a snow fort.  You share your snow with the kids who don’t have any.  You help them shovel a huge pile for a fort.  You throw snowballs and laugh.

Snow

You play until your cheeks are rosy from the cold, your eyes so used to the glittering light that everything seems like night when you come inside.  You peel off the wet layers and get some hot chocolate.  The windows fog up with humidity, warmth, and happiness.

Snow

The world seems a little newer.  A little fresher.  The moonlight makes the footprints sparkle in the yard like they were left by angels.  Deer eat the carrot nose from your snowman.

Snow

All is right with the world.

“Snow falling soundlessly in the middle of the night will always fill my heart with sweet clarity”
― Novala Takemoto

You did it.  And I’m just so proud of you.


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