Maybe it’s the fact that we never go anywhere anymore and rarely do much that is different.
But this snowstorm is especially magical.
It’s been snowing steadily all day. How much will we get? We don’t know. What will tomorrow bring? It’s unclear.
We’re just so happy about the snow.
It’s elegant and beautiful, covering the trees, spreading across the grass, and changing everything.
Just yesterday we had a dreary old yard that was totally boring to children who were forced outside to play. There was nothing to do. It was too cold. They would have to put on pants and shoes.
Today? We have a winter wonderland. The sleds are racing down the backyard hill, the snowballs are flying, and children are collapsing into the white stuff to make snow angels or just to fall and see what it feels like.
What joy.
And what a gift that it came on a Sunday when we have less work and no school.
Even the snow itself is different. When we look at it closely, we see it’s shaped in tiny white stars that have fallen from the sky, little crystallized jewels that formed who knows how. A meteorologist might be able to explain, but the science doesn’t really matter to us as we peer at the flakes. The fact that we discovered them in our very own backyard on a quiet wintry day just adds to the magnificence.
To think, snow is just water in one of its forms.
Water is essential for life. It can be transportation and sustenance. It can be spiritual and sacramental.
Today, water—in this frozen state—feels magical. And part of the joy of this snowfall is that it is breaking the monotony of daily life and changing our little stay-at-home world.
This snow, in this moment, feels heaven-sent.
And I feel so grateful for this wintry miracle of the ordinary turned extraordinary.
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