Blizzard

What is there to say about a heavy snow that hasn't already been said? Yeah, the kids were happy to be home from school yesterday. Yes, there is delight in precipitation measured in feet rather than inches. Yes, there will be more sledding this afternoon. But what else is happening? Some thoughts:

I love standing still and letting individual flakes collect on my black mittens. I try to see if I can catch a completely perfect one - unattached to others, with all six arms unmarred. Such flakes are rare.

As with many circumstances, I enjoy watching others' experiences while I stand on the sidelines. J goes down the hill on her blue plastic toboggan, while JBL clomps down behind her, ready to help her back up. Once she makes the trek up the hill, she is cooked. Almost 3 feet of snow is tough enough to navigate when you are 5, let alone on a 45 degree incline. I stand at the top of the hill and cheer as JBL then attempts a couple runs by himself. He is too heavy, the snow too fluffy. He sinks more than he slides. I have zero desire to do any more than watch. The only thing that occurs to me is to attempt to get the mail. Why is that?

Blizzards are tough to measure. The wind causes great drifts of snow in some areas, and deep valleys in others. Still, we are compelled to try to describe the impact of such an event. How does saying we got 30+ inches mean anything? It is the volume - spread out over many miles in all directions - that gives us pause. Such a huge event occurring over just one day is hard to grasp.

There is something immensely comforting in the idea that I cannot actually go anywhere or do anything meaningful, other than being with my family. It is expected at a time like this that we will all stay close to home and do nothing much more than enjoy each other. What a gift of time this is.

Although we face digging out the car and driveway, I try to ignore the pain that will come with otherwise getting back to reality after this small break. Hiding always has that flip side of increased effort during re-entry, doesn't it?

So for now I sit and watch the fire, look at the amazing roses JBL bought to help me smile again, and hope the snow will continue to swirl and fall for the rest of the afternoon. Maybe I will figure out how to take the edge off the pain to come.