In the northern hemisphere we have a chill in the air . Winter storms , at times light and lovely or wild and harsh , that slow down our pace . Perhaps memories of childhood snow days bring a smile as we keep warm inside .
Is it the prettiest package and nifty trinket inside that lights up our hearts ? I venture to guess it is rather the thought and time that remains in our thoughts .
The very spirit of giving is inspirational and contagious . A beautiful flow of humanity creating a web . A gentle kindness towards a stranger can make your own heart sing . La la la …let the joy in and then give it away again .
An extra can of soup purchased at the store and donated on the way out of the door . Check on a neighbor and think of how it must feel that somebody cares .
What better way to celebrate the season of miracles amongst so many faiths than to step beyond our busyness and let people know that they are cared about .
Awakened even earlier than my usual four o’clock in the morning . There’s something about the quietness of falling snow and the darkness of the night being held by a magical , soothing light of falling white flakes . Cozy inside and watching the delicate snow is both soothing and exciting .
It brings forward the happy memories of being a child and waking up in the night to a blanket of snow covering the streets . A bit of moon light shining across the white making it practically sparkle and crisp , cold air against my face was invigorating . I would open a small window and stick my head to feel the snow and try to catch a snowflake on my tongue .
It always felt magical especially in the middle of the night . I loved way it gave our busyness a break . it would ask , if not demand , that we slow down . To break free of our routine and to experience life a bit differently .
The joy of a snow day remains in my heart and waits each year to be re awakened .
A light fog draped among ancient trees and hanging in the air . It’s been several mornings in a row now and it feels like the custom . A bit of mystery and quietness into the start of the day like a mediation from nature as the grey mist lingers in the air .
Subtle hints of longer days and temperatures that are more inviting and even a few optimistic birds singing their morning hymns give way to cautious delight .
Deep , striking hues of color play with grey in the sky as the fog floats away . Dramatic splashes of red and fiery orange dance with light blue and the whiteness of clouds . It inspires dreams as much as rest .
A moment held and telling a story . It speaks not only of this moment of life’s history and evolution . It speaks of endurance intertwined with fragility and of quietness and courage . The story of a lone bison standing in stillness on the volcano known as Yellowstone and myself , the lone explorer , standing in the threshold of what was and what is . Welcoming the freedom of quietness in a pause and willingly entering the mystery .