Last winter, whatever snowstorms occurred managed to miss my neck of the woods completely. I like snow, enjoy its freshly fallen beauty and the way it can inspire impromptu vacation days, so I grumbled.
This year…oh, my…I am paid back, with interest.
From late Friday morning until early Saturday evening, the snow fell. Nearly three feet of it.
We’ve been lucky, because so far, we’ve been able to experience this from a comfortable vantage point. Aside from a few alarming little flickers on Friday night, we haven’t lost power. We have heat; we have light; we have hot water; we have Internet. We even have a well-stocked kitchen, with meals enough to see us through the next couple of days, at least.
All around us, schools and governmental offices are closed. The four of us are staying home on Monday. Tuesday? Who knows? I’m taking this one day at a time. For one thing, I’m beginning to hear rumors of more snow expected Tuesday into Wednesday, perhaps another five inches’ worth.
This is an adventure! At least, I intend to treat it as such, to savor the experience, and to be grateful for all its hidden gifts.
There is, of course, the ever-popular “Snow day! Snow day!” gift, a respite from the everyday grind.
There’s the aesthetic gift of the snow itself, shimmering and shifting the landscape into new and unfamiliar patterns.
There’s the opportunity for plenty of time snug at home with my family, with the people I live with and love. (The cats are cuddlier, too!) Sure, sometimes we get on each others’ nerves, but all in all, I’m delighted at how comfortable we all are together.
Then, too, I am finding that the snow, simply by virtue of being a break in the pattern, is a source of creative inspiration for me. I feel…cleansed, and very peaceful.
It’s a good feeling.