When the winter storm warning alerts went off, I ignored them. I had been fooled to many times in the past, waiting and watching for the snow to cover everything and bring a sense of quiet and peace to my yard. However, I always hold out hope, even when it has failed so many times - at least when it comes to predicting snow.
Yet here I sit in front of the fireplace with Tucker (tucked in beside me) how wonderful we are to be having snow and lots of it. Snow is special to me, it falls on the deepest parts of my memory, offering wonder with every flake.
I admit - I love winter and I love, love snow. Something about snow is magical for me. I feel safe and protected when it wraps itself around me. The memory of our neighborhood gangs tumbling out our doors, gloved, booted in head to toe snow suits brings a lightness to my life.
Eventually exhaustion would drive us indoors. If we were lucky and my mother was feeling particularly cheerful, big mugs of steaming hot chocolate would be on the table, waiting for us.
Those memories are precious to me. Jon Stewart recently said, “I have come to appreciate the quiet activism of living a pleasant life.” He couldn’t be more right. I offer that idea to anyone who is game to try it on. A pleasant life is not free of struggle, worry or suffering. A pleasant life is trusting in your goodness and the goodness of others.
Snow - it’s pleasant and today that’s magical.
