Back in the day…it used to be much more romantic. There was nothing better than looking out the windows to watch the snow falling ever so softly to cover the ground in a blanket of lovely, pristine white. It was quiet, and even muffled whatever loud chaos I might be feeling at the time, and so, somehow therapeutic.
It was the best when I would wake up to falling snow because then I would just grab my snowboard and drive up for a perfect, fluffy day. It was my Sabbath.
And now we’re here…this winter, and all I see is snow, ice, rain, snow, ice, rain…and Andy struggling to shovel out two cars, two parking spots, and a sidewalk that is relatively safe to walk on. ARGHHHHHHH. Not so romantic, and I feel terrible and anxious about his back.
But, I’m also going stir crazy! I can’t move very easily – it takes 20 minutes to get my socks and shoes on – so it’s even more difficult to get out very easily. Still, I wonder if it’s good timing. I need to slow down for sure…especially in this time of transition and preparation, and it seems that the best way is for me to be in some physical lockdown. Slowing down isn’t just for the sake of physical rest, but I want to spend some time reflecting on this time – the pregnancy, the imminent arrival of the twins, the change in my role and identity in this family…
I find comfort in the following:
Dust of Snow by Robert Frost
The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.
I have never in my life felt so many extreme emotions simultaneously…to navigate and embrace them all as part of this once-in-a-life experience is both daunting and exhilarating. There’s something here about the images of life and death signaling cycles and season…the dusting of snow as a wonderful, surprising shower of grace…and the impact that moment had on the heart, “the mood.” I want to make the most of all these gracious moments.
Sigh. It’s been a while since I’ve done much literary criticism and analysis. 😮