Snow

We drove the road cut through snow-covered woods. Lovely tufts of white coated every branch, every limb, cloaking the bare trees to guard against the cold. The inmost branches reached across the road to their brothers and sisters on the far side of the road, roofing our road, turning it into a tunnels of friends and neighbors all dress up for the holidays.

I feel the magnificence of the snow. I feel it in the small of my back where all my muscles protest against the shoveling I did yesterday, striking a bargain with the snow that we would celebrate it if only it kept in its place. I feel it in the bite of cold on my nose, the thousands of soft kisses on my face as I stand in the out in the night. I feel it in the gentle hand of my man reaching over to take mine as we drive through the woods and snow.

I know January will come and I will tire of the cold and the white and gray. I know the snow plows will turn the white splendor to so much dirty sludge. I know the end of quiet drives through the woods is coming so I cling to these moments of wonder all the more. It is ephemeral and thus more precious and more to be enjoyed if I will stop and notice.