They say snow falling is silent.
But it's not just any silence
|(yes, I really wrote this in pen. at 6am.)|
it's a beautiful kind of silence,
like being in the bedroom where your children are sleeping,
like the sound of this pen gliding over the paper at 6am,
where there's always the chance you'll hear something,
a small sigh, a faint breath, a sign of life,
That's what snow falling sounds like,
like G-d is whispering.
I never truly appreciated the color of things,
buildings, landscapes, trees...
until I saw them whited out with snow.
Yes, the days are shorter but the nights are brighter...
It's as if the sun never fully goes down.
The immense whiteness overcomes the darkness,
reflecting every ounce of moonlight, starlight, any light,
giving the night a perpetual glow until dawn.
To see a tree's leaves transform from green into colors
|(leaf we saved from the Fall)|
I never knew a leaf could possess,
reds, yellows, golds...
Palm trees always wear the same outfits.
I never appreciated a tree's clothing
until I saw one naked,
swaying in the howling wind like a skeleton,
emaciated yet alive,
bare but hopeful.
Perhaps, like me, anxious for Spring.
The city in winter is clad in the dullest browns and grays available,
even the evergreen ceases to be green
when the sun ceases to shine.
The sky seems to wear gray like an old,
comfortable coat that it doesn't like to take off.
|(taken by lyndsi v.)|
The people wear black.
Perhaps to provide the greatest contrast with the great White,
perhaps to add to the solemnity of winter
as black does for a funeral procession.
I too wear black.
|(taken by lyndsi v.)|
I've never walked through something so strange...
like thick, wet sand,
and more wet.
The snow crunches and slushes under your feet,
tickling your ears as it freezes them.
I never experienced such wind power,
except what the Atlantic whipped up onto the beach,
or in the Eye of a hurricane...
I'm grateful for this wind,
like a giant street sweeper,
making the cold unbearable while cleansing the air.
I've never experienced all four seasons
that each one has a look, a feel, a smell, a sound...
even a taste.
They come and go like the tide,
short, temporary, but life changing.
They are, indeed, life,
and how G-d chooses to speak,
so I suppose I can endure winter
for a few more weeks...
|(reminds me of Florida...kind of.)|