FIRST SNOW!

I LOVE SNOW!!!  Unfortunately, I don't live in a region where it is constant but sporadic.  That being said however, last winter we were deluged with one of the larger snowfall amounts in recent St. Louis memory.  In past years we always seem to be just on the cusp of the demarcation line so to speak.  It reminds me of the famous Maxwell Smart line, "missed it by that much".

Now, it's quite possible that were I to live in a region of ubiquitous amounts or were it so pervasive that I couldn't get out, I may think or say differently.  However, that could have its rewards as I could sit in front of my screen a good part of the day pounding out rather profound if not inescapable volumes for this blog.

But, as it was the day after Christmas that it came, and our wishes for a White Christmas were hopelessly dashed, I like to think, better late than never.  And we still have to tread through 3 more months of winter and it would remote for nary another storm to blanket our area.  So, I'm forever hopeful that another one will soon be on its way.  Now, as a school teacher, I must say I have my limits on how many times I can watch in earnest in the wee hours of the morn' our local news report our school district is closed.  I can joyously shout really only 5 times and after that, I know it's going to eat ridiculously into my summer vacation as it did last year, having to make up days.  But it sure is nice to crawl back into a warm bed or stoke the fireplace and curl up with furballs and canines and a good comforter, (or Meg Ryan if you're reading)

But getting back to that first snow and its pristine silence, cascading to earth.  It's always bleak and the sky is inhospitable while it falls.  And the hush of a flake dancing, toppling is a paradox in itself.  I've often been in a forest as it snowed and the stillness often cries of an aging austerity that proves so uninviting.  It's that paradox of silence that penetrates my soul.  In the redeeming quality of that snowflake once landed, one sees the glint of sparkle; light and fashion sculpted into a promise of redemption and vision.  Oh, how I love the snow!