As I write this it's been snowing now for over 2 hours here in Seattle. It is dark out, and the snow is glowing in the air as it falls. Willow and Brent are asleep in the bedroom. I had to get up and take pictures of the garden, and cover a few plants. I have some Clarkia amoena given to me by another native plant enthusiast in gallon containers, and though it is hardy I wanted to be sure to protect the seedlings since the pots are currently full of tiny leafy little plants. When we return from our trip to the Midwest at the end of December I'll plant them in the ground as soon as the weather permits.
Though I despise the cold, I have always loved snow. The way it cleans everything up, and reminds us of who we are in the world. The silence of the glistening flakes, each one unique, falling to the ground. The way the new snow glows and lights up the night sky. The cozyness of being inside as the snow falls outside. The adventure of snow angels and incalculably tall mounds made by snow plows. The skiing. And tonight, the wonder of our dear daughter as she looked at the snow falling and kept repeating, long past her bedtime, "It nofing outide, it nofing outide!" We always say goodnight to our dog, who pretty much lives outside, and goodnight to the outside, before we have "night night time". As I took her outside to say goodnight, we saw the snow and I told her about it. She has seen snow before, but this is her first time being old enough to really experience it fully. Brent went outside and brought some snow in for Willow to hold, and we watched it melt together in Brent's hand and then in Willow's hand. The look on her face... well, I wish sometimes that I had a video camera implanted in my eyes. I love to watch her little face light up with amazement and wonder, and that it did tonight as she held the snow and watched it melt.
Even more amazing is that, though she went to the window many times as I read her her bedtime stories and rocked her in the rocking chair, she actually consented to lie down not too far after her usual bedtime, and went to sleep. Brent suggested that tomorrow she might catch some snowflakes on her tongue, if it is still snowing. She was all about that as she ran back and forth from the rocker to the window, talking about the snow. I hope it keeps on snowing.