Walkin' in a Winter Wonderland

I look forward to a righteous snow storm. Most people think I am crazy for wishing to be snowed in. It doesn't matter if it's on a weekend or during the work week. I would prefer during the work-week so I can have a snow day, but I'll take anything I can get. Why do I look forward to the snow?

The other day it snowed. There wasn't much to it. My drive home was scary at best. I slid all over the road because the township didn't treat them. It was a white knuckler. But once I got home, I got to enjoy the beauty of the frozen precipitation.

Outside it was dark. I stood in my backyard with my porch light on and looked out over the garden. From a distance, it appeared as if white feathers were falling from the sky. I could hear the snow falling. It's like the white noise you hear when your television doesn't have a channel. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh. The white noise calms me. Snow muffles the sounds from the nearby street. It's quiet, and yet there's an underlying vibration that is so slight, you almost miss it. You have to listen for it. Once you know that it's there, you will always hear it.

I could see the trees being covered. The white of the snow absorbing the green of the leaves. The trees that had lost their leaves were starting to look soft again. Snow filling in the empty spaces where leaves had been only a month ago. Angular lines losing their sharpness to the softness of the snow cover.

My backyard was getting a blanket of white and it was beautiful. The snow hides a multitudes of gardening mistakes, loose boards, and dead flowers. For the moment, it's looks as if my gardening slate is clean once again. I'm sure when spring rolls around I'll be reminded of what I need to clean up and fix. But for now, I can enjoy the illusion of perfection.

When I looked up, the snow seemed to magically appear right above my head. The sky was so dark, you couldn't see much above you. The flakes were fat and clumpy. They landed softly on my head and face. My body heat melted the snowflakes almost as quickly as they land.

I bent down to feel the cold snow in my hands. I scoop some up and pack it tight. A perfect, round ball waiting to be flung at someone or something. It is a good snow. Good for snowballs and snowmen. It's wet and dense. Sticking to the trees and roads. I hurl it across the yard. A solid thump sounds out when the snowball connects with the fence. Yes, good for snowballs. I smile at the thought.