I'm sitting here at my good friend Nicole's apartment. I have a paper to write...that's probably all that needs to be said about that.
When I turn around, I can see right out her living room windows and into the fluffy world of whiteness. That's right, snow in Salem, in November. (hahaha she just said from her bedroom, for like the 5th time, "It's snowing!!! =P)
I never really grasped the glee of snow as a kid, I knew I was missing something because everyone else was SO excited whenever it snowed. And I'd go out and sled and build things and throw things and make snow angels just like every other kid, but I never quite had it figured out. Getting up early and frolicking in the cold and the wet were never quite fun for me. I never quite understood why a few moments of adrenaline were worth destroying the beauty. The slow serenity that shows itself so little here, ravaged in a matter of moments.
As I got older, I went out in the snow less and less. I still got up early (which is saying something to those of you that know me) but my snowy morning routine altered some. I liked to sit with my apple cider (no cloves thank you very much) and watch the stillness. I loved to watch the evolution.
The back yard started so still.And then you might see a bird or two, usually a black crow at my house then. Or maybe the birds had already come and gone, and all that was left was the small prints that were left behind, cold and alone.If you could catch them at the right time, you'd see an adult wake before everyone else and go for a stroll through the new bliss. I could watch them making their way, crunching along, and soon enough they were gone. Once again, leaving only their footprints. That one set of footprints is one of the most lonely, and somehow peaceful things I've ever seen.
And then slowly, so very slowly at first, the neighborhood would awake. It started with lights flicking on and heads poking out from windows and door ways, then darting back in to spread the news. "Snow! It Snowed!" And of course the ever present "No School!" (I don't ever remember saying that one, although I'm sure I did at some point, I loved school)
And then there is an explosion. Of sound, of gear being thrown on, and sleds being hauled out from their storage places, anxious for a shot at proving themselves the best. Each toboggan eager to do what it was created for.
I understand the wonder in snow. I haven't grasped why it gives us that feeling, but I understand that it does. I am very content right now, sitting inside where it is warm and dry, with my cocoa (thanks Nicole) and watching the beauty swirl and begin to settle. I get it. But I wonder is there something in us humans that we are wired for snow? I think that sounds a bit far fetched. Maybe we are wired for wonder. We are wired for awe. And snow, it its purity is just one thing that sets that off for us.
Even with my paper nagging the back of my mind, trying to bore its way to the front (I know, I thought that was all I had to say, but apparently my subconscious really thinks I should get this thing done) it is relatively easy to put that aside and to just enjoy the peace and the lovelyness of it.
Side note: it's 11:11 right now, make a wish.
Side note 2.0: 11 is my favorite number.
It makes me think of people who are in cold like this, or worse, and don't have the resources to keep warm, to survive. People like the Pakistanis that Mr Andy Yaxley has been talking with us about in youth group. Flooding drove them into homelessness and now winter is approaching and a good chunk of them are not going to make it without help. Organizations like Pure Hope Pakistan are collecting donations just to try and get water filters to Pakistan to provide them with uncontaminated water. I am so very fortunate, I don't really have words to fill the feeling.
I don't really know where I'm going with this, maybe I just really don't feel like writing this paper (infraction #2. My apologies). Anyhow, my advice is to watch the snow before it's trampled on, and THEN head outside to play - if you're one of those weirdos that is...Or, if you're like me, you'll say that you love snow- from the inside. And that walking in it is about the best it gets on the outside. Either way, I want to ask everyone (certainly not excluding myself) to do something selfless, give a blanket or a coat to someone who needs it. Enjoy the bliss Salem, drive safe, stay warm.