“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields that it kisses them so gently? And then, it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.” Lewis Carroll
Looking out the kitchen window this morning, snow-covered rooftops greeted me as Chachi, the cat, wagged his tail excitedly at the scene before him. It was the first snowfall of the season and it was beautiful.
Slipping on my boots, I made it to the fields excitedly to see what this first snowfall would bring. It was freezing cold and even though I was bundled up from head to toe, I could still feel the bitter cold as the wind brushed past my face touching my nose in a not so friendly way as it made its way to the open fields to play. It had free rein.
It was still early and the snow-tipped mountains were gleaming white from a distance. The ground closer to home was left untouched but it was wet and muddy, not really a pretty sight BUT beauty is in the eye of the beholder as they say.
I wanted to see frosted trees all laid out like picture postcards but I was disappointed. This snowfall was light and barely visible. The trees stood tall and proud their bald tops reaching to the sky. They seemed content with what was to come. Afterall, they’ve seen this cycle many times over. Nature was at work and everything had a time and place.
The crows were at it again only this time they were gathered in the trees and their raucous cacophony deafening to say the least. I wanted to see if the herons would make a showing so I headed to the spot where I had seen them last. Unfortunately, it was empty. Then I heard a loud shrill cry and on the other side from where I was, I spotted one lone heron standing still, its wings pulled tightly against it like a cloak to ward off the cold wind. Again, it stood there ignoring me as I wondered, “Why alone? Did it somehow get left behind? A straggler that somehow missed its flight for whatever the reason? What’s the next move I wondered. Just then out of nowhere I saw them flying gracefully past me. There were three of them their wings spread out, their spindly legs hanging low as they flew gracefully across the skies. One headed to the left and the other two stayed together. They didn’t land this time, they were headed somewhere. Perhaps, it was time to get out of here. The one lone heron was still there standing still perhaps contemplating its fate or it had made up its mind to stay and to weather the storm.
I left it there and made my way home hoping for more snow tomorrow. It’s in the forecast and this time I hope it will blanket the fields in white and fill it with magic.
“Snowfall rouses your inner child to dream and play once more.” Angie Weiland-Crosby
Site Title 