As I write from normally sunny Arizona (today it’s cloudy and dry) I cast my mind back other Yuletide seasons in my past. I don’t miss snow and cold but it sure makes some beautiful memories.
One thing I recall is the silence of a fresh snowfall.
Have you ever heard anything so quiet as when there is no traffic on the street, no one chattering or clumping along in snow boots, and all the night sounds are muffled in a fresh blanket of snow? And have you ever seen anything so peaceful as when the flakes are swirling down and looking up into the black night sky is like gazing into hyperspace?
I remember one particular night when there were ice crystals rimming every branch and pure white covered the ground, mounding up on every horizontal surface. I stood in my front yard, breathing in that dry snow-smell, admiring the crystalline icicles and not wanting to shatter that quiet. I just watched, letting my senses drink it all in.
I rarely saw deep snowfalls as a child so each one was special to me. I lived in the rather wet Pacific Northwest so snow was sporadic at best. Back then I didn’t have to drive in it, or go to work, and my main concern was simply if the snow would pack down well or not. I miss those snowfalls, and that lack of worry, but at the same time I really appreciate my new, dry, sunlit life.
(Photography by Lenore Plassman)