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One Dude in the Woods

I ramble, therefore I... um....

snow

Snow is a wonder. 

 

Is there anything more magical than snow?  It transforms landscapes into works of art, and provides a modesty cover for the earth as she changes from her finery of Autumn into her fresh clothing of Spring.

 

Snow excites the imagination.  It is impossible to perceive this season of the year without the wonder of snow.  When Christmas tip-toes up to pounce upon us, it best does so thro’ a sprinkling of snow, and when the old year gives birth to the new, what better way to welcome it than to sit in the silent, snow-covered woods, listening to the sheer silence of the world around?

 

Snow is peace.  A forest can be as quiet in any other season, but there is something about a coating of snow that brings it peace.  It absorbs sound, and absorbs worries.  It silences the mind as well as the world, and gives us respite.

 

Snow is food for the mind.  Perhaps because we spend most of the year without it, snow wakes us from our mental doldrums, or shocks us back from reality to sweet, silvery forgetfulness. That’s where genius flourishes ~ that short step toward the pounding thoughts of everyday life cannot contend with the velvet crunch of fresh snow beneath the haggard foot.  Snow lets us think, or lets us forget.

 

Snow is the ultimate toy.  No building blocks can form a fort in the manner of snow.  Where little boys play, towers rise, formed by wet mittens and runny noses.  Castle walls claim the air and kingdoms are born, defended by snowballs and stick-swords.  Gates may crash and walls may fall, but snow rebuilds each day, and castles grow larger and stronger until a distant voice rises over the hills, calling the warriors in for dinner, and ending the war until tomorrow.  Battle wounds are healed only with hot cocoa and fresh cookies.

 

Snow is love.  Lovers seek silence and solitude in the frosty woods, by frozen streams, beneath the watchful eyes of chaperone mountains.  Words come easily on snowy evenings that otherwise would find a weaker voice, if not bolstered by the soft calm of snow.  Hands are cold and hearts are warm, as hours rise and fall like unseen waves, ebbing and flowing, unnoticed by the crystal eyes of young romantics, who see only each other.

 

“If I could only have you near

  to breathe a sigh or two,

 I would be happy just to hold the hands I love

  on this winter’s night with you…”

 

Snow is life.  It courses thro’ the veins, excites the mind, stirs the blood, awakens the soul.  Snow is a gift God gives us to remind us that we are alive, and we are loved, that life is a delight, and that we are part of the world.

 

Published Wednesday, January 02, 2008 12:38 PM by Myric

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About Myric

I work at a historic site here in New Hampshire, do writing projects, public speaking, sometimes teach Renaissance swordfighting, and I am a seminary student.

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