It always amazes me how unprepared I am for the first snow of the season. It sneaks up on me so quickly. I try to prepare for it each year yet fail miserably. I'm referring to the emotional aspect of it all, not the bad roads and shoveling. Can there be an emotional perspective to snow? Maybe it's a reaction to the stress in my life or possible it could be the first glimpses of my fear of aging and mortality. Regardless of where it stems from, it produces the most amazing affect. It's during the first snow that this melancholy wave hits me. It's less of a classic sad state than wistful, actually. It's during the brief time when the first snowflakes are wafting down, till the moment the world is actually silenced by the weight of it all that I am able to completely appreciate my existence on Earth. In those fleeting moments it feels as if I've been able to hit the pause button on life and just breathe in it's beauty.
In a world obsessed with belonging, I get a moment of isolation.
Seems kinda deep for a gal like me and normally I would never imagine uttering these words aloud. Given the handful of folks who actually read this blog, I doubt I'll ever have to suffer and see the smirk of laughter on your faces. It is not my intention to go all philosophical on you, so let's chalk it up to a bad case of Christmas present wrapping trauma and never speak of it again!!