We woke up to a world swathed in more snow. This time, however, is more ice than snow. It is windy, and tree branches in white seem to glitter. A magical glow has settled upon the land... like some mystical banquet content in its repose. I can hear, or imagine, the small critters beneath the snow; the ground moles and field mice scattering beneath their white world. What do they feel--I wonder. Do they like snow? I don’t see any snow fairy dancing in this winter wonderland, but the world certainly seems calmer, quieter, and at peace.
People enjoy snowy days in different ways. Skiers, snowmobilers and boarders flock to the mountain as soon as the first flakes invade the ground, but when winds from the west whip across my garden, I yearn for the conform and warmth of my home.
I don’t know why it is, but whenever snow and ice arrives, I have this sweet urge to cozy up by a quiet window and look at this magical world outside from the warmth of my nest.
I can hear the music that frigid wind makes; its taunting melody carrying mystery and voices that remind me of laments of misery. The music of the wind is spellbinding; it makes me appreciate the warmth and coziness of home like nothing else.... I am thankful I have a safe place filled with light and warmth to call home…
