For the Love of Snow

One morning last week, we woke up to a snowy winter wonderland. More than that, the snow heralded the start of a week where the world seemed to slow down on its axis for a little while. As the kids ran around delighting in news of a day off school I hugged a warm drink and watched a robin poke around my blanketed garden. It is in these tiny moments of life that I now find myself feeling most alive.

We took the dog for a walk and marvelled at snow-topped houses and white weights on covered branches. We stopped to look at the burn, which just the day before we had passed by without a thought. The kids made snow angels, threw snowballs and did roly polys down little hills with deep white carpets. We took in every detail, and agreed the world looked prettier with a covering of white.

As the week moved on, we rose to slower starts as school opened its doors a little later. We went sledging, made a snowman and dripped melting snow across the floor. We enjoyed red cheeks, hot drinks and frosty fingers. We found that complaints about the cold were few and far between.

We saw that the snow brought with it kindness and attention. People watching out for older neighbours and rushing to help drivers whose cars had become stuck somewhere on the street. Small acts of remembering to place bird feed in the garden. Children invited into the grounds of the local care home, simply so that residents could watch them sledging from inside.

As the snow melted, the world returned, looking strangely naked. We said goodbye to our snowman as he slowly crumpled to a white pile upon the ground. The world sped up again as we vowed to remember the little details. Attention, kindness and living in the moment.

Perhaps every day should begin with a covering of white.