A Dusting

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!)

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