I love it.
Frozen water. Uncountable flakes and shapes. No one orders them up like we do pizza and Thai. They just fall into the landscape on their own as if beckoned by a silent far-off whisper.
Snow days are my favorite.
When the kids were younger (but not too long ago), I would pull them from school and give us the chance to sled and enjoy the snowscape in the short hours before Kansas changed his mind and melted it all.
We’d lunch at the Chinese Chef with our red faces and crazy crackling dripping hair band manes.
No money can measure the worth of those days. They were rare and oh-so-sacred.
This morning, those memories hurried me through my cup o’ cereal, brushed teeth, into my boots, and out through the snow.
With this new season of work comes the opportunity to walk the mile-and-a-half to campus and then home again.
This snowfall gave me uncountable frozen reasons to bundle up and slip slide to work.
It was so quiet.
Lush in its stillness.
Neighbors scooped heavy snow along my way.
Rabbits and cats and birds had already made the way ahead. Their tracks scattering in a zig-zagging map of flying, bounding, and crouching.
I could not have been happier, I think.
Perhaps, if the kids were nearby or I was able to biff a snowball at a patient and long-suffering friend.
But, none of that was part of the snowscape.
Just me, the heavy white layer of loveliness, and joy.
That was enough. Enough is what is before me, today.
Who knows about tomorrow?
I just don’t want to waste what is now.