There's something sacred about the way snow falls, and I can't quite place my finger on it.
Perhaps it's the profound sense of silence that accompanies each falling flake (no matter what noise there is in the background).
Perhaps it's how a pristine blanket of white transforms an otherwise dull and barren landscape into a winter wonderland (at the risk of sounding cliché).
Perhaps it's the almost spontaneous feeling of joy the sight of snow arouses in me (particularly when there's someone nearby to throw a snowball at - playfully, of course!).
Perhaps it's the way snow seems to bring out the kid in all of us (but just the fun parts).
Perhaps it's none of the above and should be chalked up to one of those mysteries inherent when encountering the Divine and should remain unexplained (which I am perfectly comfortable with).
I know a lot of people detest snow...and a lot of people have never truly experienced it. Snow to some people means shoveling and hard labor, an increased potential for roadway accidents, drab and boring scenery for four months, and so on and so forth. I, on the other hand, am immensely captivated by snow.
One of the strongest images I hold on to from my childhood is of the snow falling above my window. Whenever it snowed at night, my parents would turn on the spotlight over the deck and our backyard. My room, being on the first floor, had a perfect view of the light illuminating the falling snow and on those evenings as I drifted off to sleep I watched the snow dance down to the ground - sometimes lazily and sometimes in a chaotic frenzy subject to the whims of the fierce wind. Those nights were some of my favorites (not just due to the prospect of a snow day); the snow swirled about in intricate patterns that never repeated and I found myself fascinated by the ever-changing motifs: perpetual variations on a snowy eve.
This is one of the biggest things I miss about my old room at home (a note to my sister: you better be enjoying the view!). During those evenings watching the snow fall while I was warm in my bed, I was thankful that I had a safe and secure place from which to watch the magic happen. In those moments, I really appreciated a lot of things...warmth, a house, a loving family, life in general...and God.
I guess snow just reminds me of God's presence: the deep silence and the joy that it brings. The beauty of watching it fall. The whole package, really.
Now if adults just had more snow days, we'd all be set!
PS - I took that photo earlier this evening...taking pictures of snow is hard!