AccuWeather is calling for ten hours of snow overnight. Right now it’s freezing drizzle. I’m sitting in my den at the front of the house, watching for snow signs in the streetlight. I’m eager for the storm and so very thankful that I’m safe inside.
I think back to forty years ago, in the mountains of Manning Park east of Vancouver, British Columbia. A group of us had rented a chalet for a few days and the snow was coming down hard. A fire kept us warm and the windows looked like a Christmas card. After dark, we ventured out to the neighbouring chalets, singing carols to the occupants. We smiled and they smiled. What a great memory.
Tonight, though, I don’t want to be out and about. I’m curled up on my love seat with a marvelous book – Wonder. It’s the story of a 10-year-old who has a deformed face. His spirit, however, is just fine. And he’s starting to draw people in.
I’ll keep watching the streetlight and will tell you when there’s some action up there.
It’s starting! Essentially horizontal snow. Oh, bring it on! So far, the street is still black but I have great faith that white is on its way.
Snowflakes still dipping and diving in the light … but very little on the ground. (Sigh) I want inches blanketing the road. Blizzard, wherefor art thou? It’s time to lay my head on the pillow and dream of a white world on the awakening. Goodnight.
Boo. Just a skiff of snow, with patches of grass showing through on the lawn. The street remains black. What happened to my blessed blizzard?
Once I sat with these thoughts for a few minutes, I realized that I don’t need the outside world to do what I want it to do. I can bring forth “sanctuary”, “nestling down”, “coziness” whenever I choose. Now, as I look over my backyard, I see a delicate painting … a covering of white sprinkled with strands of green. It’s beautiful. It’s home.