We awoke this morning to Emma throwing open the bedroom door and announcing, "It's snowing! It's snowing!" She pulled the blinds open to reveal that in fact a light dusting of snow had fallen over all the corporate headquarters that we can see from our window. The buildings looked less greedy and powerful. They looked more cute and innocent, like Santa's corporate headquarters. It's funny how snow can do that to a place.
I went downstairs, had my coffee and came to terms with the fact that school would be cancelled today. Don't get me wrong, I love snow. As a displaced Texan, I still think of snow as this miraculous event, a rare occurrence that is God's way of telling you to slow down, watch movies and drink hot chocolate. But I also think preschool is God's way of helping me not lose my mind. So, I was slightly bummed about the thought of school being cancelled and instead spending the day gently persuading the kids that they had to wear shirts and shoes if they were going to go outside (not to mention zipping them up into those puffy snow suits, shoving their fingers into gloves and their feet into boots only to discover that they need to go to the bathroom). So much for my plans to work on my novel, do some Christmas shopping and take a shower without Charlie constantly opening the shower door to chat. (Sigh...)
But as I look outside at the pine trees covered with snow and the constant flurry of white falling noiselessly from the sky, I can't help but feel it's a small miracle. Everything is transformed. The energy around us feels different, like the electrons or something are charged differently. Our house feels like a sanctuary with its heat and it's blankets and envelopes of Swiss Miss. When you walk outside into the cold, the sounds are different, quieter, holier. It's like reading a really good poem, looking at everything under a blanket of snow. Even the most mundane thing like your own front yard is made new and beautiful.
The forecast tomorrow calls for clear skies...I have to admit, I'm kind of disappointed.