I am a mom, a wife, a lover of God and my family, a friend, a naturalist and environmental educator, a writer, a crunchy granola, a reader, thinker, scrapbooker, journeyer - not necessarily in any order.
It's snowing here again. It's been snowing since late this afternoon, and we have four inches. The flakes are big and fluffy, moister than the snow we had before Christmas. The trees and bushes are all decorated again, and look pillowy in the ambient light of the suburbs. I stood outside for a few minutes as I was gathering firewood. I stilled myself and listened. It was quiet except for the roaring of the furnaces at the pool on the other side of the green belt. The snow made soft whispering noises. Occasionally a brief puff of wind would stir the trees, causing lumps of snow to plumpf off through the branches. The large conglomerated flakes tickled my face. I felt if I stayed still for even a short while, I would be covered, camouflaged. I wondered briefly how long I would be able to stay still, but I could feel moisture seeping through the seams of my shoes. I decided reluctantly to go back inside to the warm fire and the cozy blankets on the couch.