I jumped out of bed, found my snow pants, tied on my husbands boots since I don’t own any waterproof ones and I headed for the door. Living in Rhode Island we get snow, but because the sea and winds are warmer by the coast than inland, we have snow for hours, not days. So, to wake up to two feet of snow was to say the least, an awesome sight.
The snow was up to my knees and with my husbands clunky boots, I could feel the strain in every step I took. Where were the steps I knew? My drive? The confines of my property? No boundaries today. No landmarks. All is one, a blanket of white.
There is nothing like making the first set of tracks in the snow. You are like the first explorer of an unknown land. It is perfectly silent, no signs of life, it is as if time has stood still, frozen, literally.
I travel down the road. I now hear stirring. A few brave souls digging as if they think they can save their sand castle from the waves. The battle scars are evident. The carcasses of once tall pines litter my pathway entwined in wires as if trapped in fish nets. No way of escape. Ah, this is why there is silence. The energy that once flowed through these homes is no longer.
Actually, it appears I am not alone. There is one other explorer built for expeditions of this nature. He looks at me as if I am disturbing his journey. I wonder if he is enjoying what life must have been like before humans? We acknowledge one another, give each other a nod and move on.
As I turn the corner, I begin to recognize features in the snow. Is this the path I walk day after day? It’s funny how something could seem so foreign yet familiar.
Yes this is a place very familiar to me. A spot where many children have played. Swinging on the pendulum of summer. I know everything must rest and so too must the seasons.
I am thankful for today and for the observance and awareness of such beauty.
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