She’s wearing her prettiest clothes this morning, the kind of white excess only Nature can pull off.
What is it about snowstorms that excites me so? Is it because they so effectively interrupt my routine? Is it because they unexpectedly release me from my commitments and expectations? Maybe it’s because they temporarily excuse me from my schedule. This isn’t something I have to explain to anyone; there seems to be universal understanding and sharing of this justification.
As the snow lays down an extra layer of silence, soundproofing my world, I walk happily around my house, freed by Nature from demands that await me in more moderate weather. My heart is joyful in a forced respite in a small town on the shore of Lake Michigan in January… the gift of snowflakes.