Yesterday morning we woke up to an inch or two or snow. Most transformations in nature are gradual--the slow greening in spring giving way to the flowers and fecundity of summer. The leaves tinging orange and red until all the woods are ablaze in the color of fall, only to drop off slowly until you realize the trees are bare and bleak, bearing down for winter.
But snow is different. It is an instant transformation. A new coat of paint for the world. And when you see it for the first time, that first glance out of the frosty window revealing the soft deep blue sky, with everything below covered in a clean, white blanket, that is magical.
I take it in quietly, and slip back into bed.
Claire, on the other hand, was dancing and yelling and falling over herself trying to find the snow pants and boots. The kids all had fun out there, even Isaac in the snow for the first time.
It was a perfect snow. The streets and walks melted fast, no ice. Today yesterday's snow is patchy on the lawn and crunches with ice where it melted and refroze. It will gradually melt and sublimate away. And I'll wait for the next morning that we wake up to a world made perfect for the moment by snow.