November 27, 2012


I'm sure there will come a time when I am sick of snow. Because if it's snowing now, in November, it will be a long time before it's not snowing, or at least before there is no snow on the ground. So, yes, the moment will come when I declare that I hate snow. But not for the moment. For the moment, I love snow.

There is a lack of sound when it snows. Unlike rain, which pelts on our metal roof, drumming or pattering, depending on how much there is, or wind that howls and pushes the trees against the windows, snow has an absence of sound. It is so quiet outside. Silent.

This morning there was sledding before school. Because they could. The snowpants and boots and, yes, ski goggles (why not) were donned before breakfast and they ate with their bottoms only half in their seats, ready to go.

When everyone is off for the day, I wander though the house, making beds that were forgotten and turning off lights before sitting down to work. There is enough light from outside, reflecting off the snow, to make the house bright inside. Or bright enough. I like the cool light from the windows better than the yellow light from the lamps. We have a new shag rug in the living room that is getting much love from the animals, although this morning it's all about the chair next to the fire it seems.

As I said, I know there will come a time, probably not too terribly long from now, when I hate the snow. But for now, I'm going to enjoy the quiet and the light and the crunch underfoot and sleds in the driveway and snowpants on the floor of the mudroom. Anyone with me? Or do you hate the thought of snow? Maybe I'm the only crazy one (although, clearly not, since there are other people up here in snow country with me, right?)