Quiet

I could get lost in that tangle of snowy branches for hours.

This morning my children all slept in late while I consumed two cups of coffee and took a shower (!). Michael was the first to get up. Usually he is the last.

I brought him downstairs with me, and we sat on the couch together--he under the blue blankie I knit for him before he was born, me under a blue wool blanket given to us as a wedding gift, and he very delighted that we matched--and we simply watched the snow falling for a little bit, just the two of us.

(There is 2-3 feet out there! I promised him that later today we'd take him out and put him in it to see how tall it was.)


I was trying to figure out what it was about winter light that is so lovely, aside perhaps from its scarcity. I mean the light that comes inside when there is snow on the ground like this. I usually love warm light, but the snow-light is much cooler. I think it is that it comes from all around--up from the ground as well as from the sky--that makes it especially lovely. Soft light that falls from every angle. It is one of the reasons why I love (and very rarely complain about) snow--if we're to have winter, then let's have the beauty of it!

(Although the repairman who's been working on our bathroom might disagree with me. I imagine we are paying him for the time he's spent shoveling his way out of our driveway. If it didn't seem rude I would remind him to press the gas pedal gently like he's walking on eggshells, not to floor it and dig himself further in ... as Keith so often reminds me. :) )