“Well,I know now. I know a little more how much a simple thing like a snowfall can mean to a person.”
–Sylvia Plath
Some snowfalls land gently, like a lace tablecloth on an old, scared dining room table. That’s how Sunday morning’s snow seemed to me.
It approached without fanfare before dawn, tidied up the ground outside our cabin and ran its feather duster over all the trees.
I peeked out the window, tickled by the view. Then I made my way to the front porch where I stood in my jammies and treated myself to the cold, sweet air.
Sunday morning snow falls with particular magic — no hasty shoveling, no frantic search for boots and gloves, just time for reverence and the appreciation of nature’s simple beauty.
I took a morning walk with friends and we felt lucky to tramp along peacefully in the snow-muted woods. I thought about the inevitability of seasons and the comforting reliability of friendship.
It felt good to celebrate both.
I had a second reason for celebrating the snow and, later, we all headed to Lambeau to watch our Packers trip up the Dolphins on a nicely frozen tundra.
Sometimes, a little snow, and a dependable running game, are all you need.
Go Pack Go!
That peaceful snow served another purpose yesterday afternoon when it rolled out a nice, slippery white carpet for the Dolphins.
Mondays are always a little sweeter after Packer wins. Go Pack Go!
