
We’ve been drowning in snow the last couple days and it has been tempting to complain about it. The temperatures are freezing and drivers, once again, take to the roads as if they have never encountered the weather phenomena before. Simple drives have grown in complexity and my kids have turned into creations even Frankenstein himself couldn’t dream of — all because the barometer dared to drop.
And yet, it is magical stuff, this snow. Last season was unusually warm and there wasn’t much of it and I’ve almost forgotten what it was like to fall asleep with my room brightly glowing from the snow’s reflection. The strange silence that comes from the collection of each flake’s deafening no longer seems disturbing. It only feels comforting. Lulling.
Surprise magic always feels the most genuine.
Grateful.
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