Thanks Mom

This morning my world changed.

Last evening I went to bed in the grey world of early winter. Gone were the brilliant leaves of fall, the beds of flowers, the soft breezes of summer. Last night I went to sleep in a world of drab.

I awoke to a brightness in my room. A shimmering light that was pleasant but unfamiliar. Intrigued I climbed out of the warm comfort of my bed and went to the window. A sea of white stretched as far as I could see.

It was beautiful.

A thick blanket of snow had, and was still, falling. Big flakes cascade from the sky. Six inches have fallen but enough to change the construction site next door into a world of mysterious shapes. Enough to change the rusted garbage dumpster into an intriguing vision of beauty. Enough to change the drab of my world into a winter wonderland.

The wind came. Weaving its way between the apartment buildings of my complex and whipping snow into streams of frozen torrent. My basement windows now peered out at a world of whirling white. Visibility reduced to almost nothing yet the bright glow remained in my room.

I made coffee and with a steaming cup in my hand sat on the edge of my bed to watch the storm unfurl. Chilled I wrapped an afghan over my shoulders and slowly sipped the warming brew.

The dancing flakes and whirling streams were beautiful. Mesmerising. Entrancing. Delighting.

I turn on the TV for news, watching national reporters tell of the large storm in the east. They show snow in various places with promise of more. Yet my nearby American neighbor Buffalo only calls for 4 inches. I laugh at how misleading it all is. The city of Buffalo may have missed a direct hit but the areas around it had been having heavy snow for several days. To the south of the city they already had 44 inches on the ground, all thanks to lake effect snow.

Yet the people of New York state love it. Born and bred winter people, they prepare to celebrate the season with skiing, snowmobiles and skates. I wondered if we, neighbors to the north and only a few miles aways would do the same.

So I sat and watched. Thinking and remembering winters long gone, of snow storms past. Of family gatherings while waiting each one out. Of being snug and safe and seeing Nature do her worst or her best depending on point of view.

Sadly the snowfall lightened and finally stopped. The magic moment of watching flakes drift to the ground was now gone. Yet the huge piles of white remained, virginal, untouched as yet by any hand human or animal. So beautiful, so pristine.

I rushed to dress and head out. I wanted to be the first to leave my mark in the snow. Too old for snow angles, I could however, leave my tracks anyway. I searched for warm clothes... looking urgently for thick warm socks. I found a pink one, a blue one, a two-tone one, a black one... I found one of every color but not two. Giving up I put on a turquoise sock and the other pink knowing a matching set remained hidden from sight.

Now out in the cold, I frolicked in the white wilderness. A squirrel scolds from above, a crow caws but few people are here to play. I feel energized and excited and with cold hands take photos to capture the moment. Nature has given me a gift and others too if only they choose to look at this way. It is a beautiful moment courtesy of Mother Nature.

Thanks mom.