A Dusting
If I blink I’ll miss it, but my part of northern Virginia is awakening to a dusting of snow on grass and cars. It will melt away as soon as it has a chance but it’s good to see it again, if only briefly.
Even as I write these words, I ask myself, why the excitement? Cold weather bothers me and I don’t like driving in snow. The vague tingle has to be left over from childhood, the sudden gift of a day off school.
But there is more, too. Snow transforms; it softens the landscape, makes it otherworldly. There is wonder in that, and a release, too.
(This photo was taken a few years ago when there was considerably more accumulation — but it proves the point!)