Monday, December 2, 2013

Snow!

Confession:

I love snow.

I know. I'm insane.

Of course I don't like being cold, and of course I don't like having strong winds blow ice into my face while I'm trying to crack the frozen windshield into submission.  I don't like the slippery, slushy roads that my van chooses to veer off of.  And no, I don't like it when the plow drives by just at the moment I've hung up my snow suit and am finally starting to warm up.
But I love snow.

This is the view from my 'library' window. I have my writing desk right up to it. That's my son playing on the snow mountain that the plow truck made for the kids after we asked very nicely.

All of the plants that I hadn't bothered to clean up, having left a sticky, smelly, molding mess, are covered in pure white goodness.

All of the traffic I can hear on the major highway, only two streets over, are muffled.  The neighbours' dogs barks, the other cars' engines ... everything is silent. Silent and sweet.

It's when the large snowflakes cascade down, like the last of the milkweed fuzz, that my entire soul itches to be out walking in it. 

The whole family comes of course. We don our thick snowsuits and toques. Our woolen mittens and waterproof Sorel boots (mine have fuzz!) go on.  We put the dog's bright pink doggiecoat on (she is old afterall) and we head out.  We scuff our boots like little children dragging their heels. Hubby and the boy usually shove each other into the snow banks that quickly accumulate.  We leave thick trails as we go, making even bigger circles when we stop to tilt our faces to the sky and stick out our tongues to catch the melting flakes.  Have you ever caught a snowflake on your tongue? They taste like winter.  We slowly walk around our meagre four blocks and everything is quiet with the exception of our laughter.  And without fail, hubby begins to sing one of Bing's favourites, 'Snow, snow, snow, snow, snow!' from the movie, 'White Christmas'. 

Whenever it snows, I smile.

My few birdfeeders in the backyard are alight with activity. The flirty chickadees, the chittering yellow finches, the quiet juncos, and my favourite, the bright red glowing cardinals.  The fat doves just watch from the clothesline, every once in awhile sneaking down to the ground to pick through the leftovers. 

It is so silent.
And I can't stand silence.  I always have to have the radio on, playing something softly.  At night I have to have the fan going to make white noise.  Even if I'm reading in bed. It's like the house is humming too loudly and I need a break.

But I love the silence of snow falling.

Snow is romantic.  It makes you want to hold the arm of the one you love and just walk for hours upon hours.  One night, on the way home from a party, hubby and I walked the 20 blocks from downtown to our old apartment and just talked, the soft snow falling around us. 

Snow makes everything beautiful.  All of the garbage and cigarette butts and brown grass and plastic bags and torn asphalt are covered in sweet white.  Even in January when it's 40C below and the winds are whipping the breath out of you, freezing your air immediately, it's still beautiful. Even in February when the bright blue skies burn your eyes and burn your cheeks, it's still beautiful. Even in March with the wicked blowing ice and you're just begging to see green... the moment it snows, it's beautiful.  Even in April when people are grouchy and the snow is slushy and gray, the moment it snows... beautiful.

Snow makes you feel beautiful.  No really.  I dare you to put on your warmest clothes and just step outside while it's snowing and just... breathe.  You can feel the snowflakes kissing your cheeks and your lips and your eyelashes and then one sneaks down your neck and you laugh out loud.  Your cheeks are cold, your nose is cold and you can't help but smile.

I don't even need to point out the obvious, that every single snowflake is different.  My son and I tried to catch them in our black mittens (the best for seeing snowflakes of course) and compared at least fifty of them. And every single one of them sparkles like diamonds and then melts away. Such a quick blessing. A sweet, unique gift from the Lord.

Can I encourage you? Can I encourage you, even if you don't have snow, to just bundle up in the exact comfortable clothes that you need and go for a walk outside? For those of us who are blessed to have snow, see it as a joy from the Lord. See the beauty in the white.  Imagine all of those snowflakes touching your cheeks are actually kisses. 
Just love what the Lord has created for you today. Go see the beauty in this crazy world of ours.  Let it still your heart.

One day, we shall be washed, as white as snow.



Jenn Kelly is an author who has stopped writing until she figures out how to run a household, be a wife and homeschool a creative 9 year old.
She likes snow.
You can visit her website if you like: www.jennkelly.com
She is the author of the 'Jackson Jones: the Tale of a Boy' books.






9 comments:

  1. Ah, Jenn! I just wrote to my Autralian friend that I missed the snow at Christmas. I grew up in Ontario but now live on Vancouver Island where a typical December is day after day of grey skies and relentless rain. Rain is easier than snow. No shovelling. No sliding into the ditch. It'll get your face wet but that's just water. Nothing at all like the magic of snowflakes on your tongue. Thanks for your post. I'm pulling on my boots and unfurling my umbrella to go for a walk.

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  2. Absolutely love your blog and the images you conjure up with your words, Jenn--even though I have only ever seen snow in the distance and have never had the opportunity to walk in it! It sure never snows here in Sydney, Australia! But we can always go for a walk, despite the summer heat! Love your last line in particular--God bless!

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  3. Snow over rain any day. Thanks, Jenn.

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  4. In Tasmania where Mary and I live we get the cold wind off the snow from Cradle Mt. We have the 'pain' without the gain of tasting a snowflake. We did however enjoy a white Christmas when in Northampton U.K. and therefore agree there is something special about snow (but not the wind off it).

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  5. Jenn thank you so much for this creative and tantalising look into the world of snow! How I'd love to experience a White Christmas! Here in S.Africa we do have snow, but never where I live. And P.S. Please don't stop writing! You have a beautiful way with words.

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  6. Jenn, we occasionally see snow in Canberra, maybe every 2 or 3 years. I only live a few hours drive away from the Snowy Mountains ski fields. In winter we can see snow from our house on the peaks of the mountain range to the south-west of us. I haven't experienced a white Christmas, but it sounds like lots of fun :)

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  7. Alice: good for you! I like rainy days too. When dressed for it.
    Jo-Anne: consider this a personal invitation. Come visit us anytime you like. We have snow from November-April!
    LeAnne: I like snow over rain too. Sometimes.
    Ray: I do look forward to seeing snow fall in the UK. Maybe out at a country cottage with a crackling fire?
    Shirley: you just made me cry. Thank you for the encouragement. I really needed it.
    Narelle: You could always take a drive.... :)

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  8. I remember when I first saw snow after we moved to Orange. Just Beautiful. My reactions were similar to yours. Don't get snow where we live now. But we have the beach. That is God's blessing to us here.

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  9. Jen, what an awesome post. I was right there in the snow with you. I remember the time we holidayed in Switzerland. We took our boys up the mountain to snowboard for the first time in their lives. As I sat there watching them being educated on how to snowboard, tiny snowflakes fell onto my black (yes, God chose the right color for me to wear that day) jacket and I sat amazed at the tiny intricacies of a snowflake. God is truly creative and amazing!

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