Today, the first fluffy snowflakes of the year blanketed our neighborhood. Growing up in California- it only snowed once in my life- when I was 4, and it was more of a “light dusting” than an actual snow- I never knew what magic snow can bring.
Oh, sure in a few months- or even tomorrow morning when I’m getting three kids in the car to run carpool- I will be sick and tired of the white stuff, but for now, the first snow of the season is just magical.
The first winter we lived here, I remember waking in the middle of the night, and being confused by the strange glow coming from the windows- when I looked outside, the whole world was silent, glowing and sparkling in the luster of the full winter moon. When it snows, the white reflects light all around, and night doesn’t really get dark- it was a wonderful surprise, and one I still appreciate.
The other surprise was the way it sounds when snow is falling. It’s like a downy cotton quilt setting around the sleeping world. Sounds are softer, muffled- you can hear yourself think. Falling snow invites introspection. Watching the flakes softly fall from the sky and catch on your eyelashes is a dizzying experience, and makes one feel like a child.
Speaking of children, as soon as we left church, Jeffrey pelted Beanie in the face with a big ol’ snowball, bringing on serious indignant tears from the offendee, and a time-out for the offender.
Maybe tomorrow we’ll make a snowman. Maybe. But I’m way bigger on looking at the snow and waxing poetic than I am at actually playing in it- don’t even get me started on sledding!