Of a Winter's Morning

The frosty winter morning, bejeweled with the waning moon hanging tranquilly in the cobalt light of dayspring, began cold and white; I was up early and not exactly happily so.

Then, the glow began; soft and warm, faintly tingeing the white expanse with gold and pink; rays, seemingly of molten gold, warming my heart if not the air and I began to revel in the beauty of the approaching day.

Growing stronger, the light began to fill the cracks and crevices until the lingering shadows were dispelled from the snowy patchwork at my feet; morning had broken.

Blues, pinks and purples infused with gold, were wrapping themselves across the sky, painting vivid streaks on the clouds; the snow taking on the reflected glory. The fog, rising from the lake and the myriad crooks and crannies of the surrounding hills, glowing pink in first light; craggy peaks rearing their snowy heads, as if reaching for the proffered rays.

How many dawns like this have I missed, wrapped snug in my nocturnal harbor? How many bedazzling mornings have I forfeited, cozy but oblivious?

No matter, I was here now, basking in the beauty of creation once again. Tears sprang to my eyes unbidden as I traversed the snowy landscape; how I know God loves me as he shares with me the beauty and glory of His creations.

Every once in a while something so beautiful and unmatched crosses your path,and you know, along with Anne Shirley,that God is in His heaven and all is right with the world.

Mid Winter

It’s mid-winter; a time when the thin, watery light from the sun casts wane shadows across the landscape.

The days are getting longer, one silvery sunbeam at a time. The cold drives all but the hardiest indoors; we cocoon ourselves with a crackling fire, sipping cocoa; dreaming of gardens to come, picnics to share, or celestial magic overhead.

As the earth sleeps, clothed in her winter finery, we too take respite from the physical; the toil and labor of spring and summer at once a distant memory and a pleasant anticipation.

Winter in snow country is unmatched in beauty; icy jewels glittering and glistening; the fields and meadows, trees and rocks cloaked and resplendent; even telephone poles and power lines take on an air of softness and mystery.
Wander through familiar haunts and the scenery becomes new, ripe for discovery; restoring a childlike wonder we thought we had outgrown.

In non snow country where I live, we sometimes get bogged down with the sameness of winter; nothing growing, nothing snowy; nothing changing.

Yet the sky and clouds change often and wintery clouds, are dark and heavy with moisture; a symphony of grays, occasionally bordering on black; scudding along, they seem to be hurrying, like Alice's White Rabbit, to warmer climes; often bringing fog to kiss the earth with its own kind of alchemy. Skeletal tree silhouettes and birds dashing here and there join the celestial brume to bring that winter enchantment to our lives; geese flying overhead remind us that spring is on its way.

Spring, God’s gift of hope and renewal is right around the corner, but take time to enjoy the beauty and magic of winter; it’s all too fleeting.

Snow

We had our first snowfall the other day, and here in my section of the Beaver State that may just be all we get; a skiff; a smattering; a modicum; a spattering; a sprinkling. I think you get the idea.

And you know what? I'm perfectly happy with that!

It's not that I hate snow, on the contrary; it's just that snow is cold and wet and slippery and slushy and messy and...well, you get the idea.

I've lived in the high desert of Colorado where the snow can fall as late as mid June; where the mountain roads have to be cut out in early summer so they can be used; where the ground doesn't thaw from September to June, maybe even July.

I've lived beside the Wasatch Mountains where at 5000ft you can get 10 inches of snow in an afternoon.

I've lived beside Lake Erie where the lake effect can dump over a foot of snow during the night, closing roads and schools and making for some incredible snowman snow.

No, I actually love snow; from indoors.

There is nothing on earth cozier than a snow day, in front of a crackling fire with a good book and a mug of hot chocolate steaming away the drafts.
As I look out the window and see the freshly fallen snow, no footprints, no mud showing through, no scars on the landscape; I am at peace. There is a calm that descends on the world that cannot be described; earth is resplendent in her winter finery.

Then the children bundle up and away they go; trudging through the drifts, making trails and hiding spots; laughing and playing; the air sparkling and crackling with their excitement.
Red noses and frozen fingers and toes mark the day; in and out; warm and cold.
Then, finally, they are spent; the excitement having burned itself into a slow simmer.

I look out again, and the fresh virgin snow is gone; all I see are scars, deep and vivid in the late afternoon light; footprints, piles, trails, grassy bald spots; all part of the scene; all part of the lingering chaos.
However, my mother's heart steps in and tears sting my eyes; this scene is a scene of joy, happiness, and unbridled excitement.
Happy children making joyful noise created this chaos and I look with new eyes; a masterpiece before my eyes and my little Vermeer's snuggled all around me now; blankets, books and hot cocoa at the ready.

Yes, I love snow; from indoors.