New snow and ever-colder temperatures greeted our little town each morning this week. And the forecast is for more of the same for the next several days. No two snowflakes are alike, so say the scientists. And I say people don’t react to snow the same way either.
After an overnight surprise of a twelve-inch snow, I gasped when I raised the blinds. There it was: an equalizer, renewing all that it covered with the same gentle touch, connecting all things together with its beautiful white color, and showing no preference or prejudice for large/small-beautiful/ugly-new/old. Snow, for me, represents a new start, a clean slate. It lights up my world and it calms my spirit just by being itself, withholding nothing.
My next thought was a memory. I’m belly-down on a sled, hanging onto a looped rope around the sled frame, and being pulled by Dad’s pickup. Around the corners, up and down the hills, over the bridges. Fun doesn’t get any better than that. I guide the sled by twisting the front rungs and swaying from one side of the road to another. Thinking about it now gives me chills. I’d ask for another mile and another mile until I had no feeling in my fingers and toes. Back in the house to warm up and go again
And then there’s driving in the snow—something that takes practice, nerve, and skill. I love the crunch crunch crunch of tires making the first tracks or following someone else’s pattern, even expanding it a little by guiding my vehicle just outside the first marks. It’s fun. Maybe I’m reliving the sledding described above, using a car instead of a sled.
Snow makes me smile, feel joy, and risk a sore back jumping into this week’s drifts, sometimes with a snow shovel and sometimes not.