As I type, sunlight streams through the windows in my dining room, the glare from the snow nearly blinding me. We awoke this morning to nearly eight inches of the white stuff, our backyard looking like a scene from Narnia, breathtaking in its beauty. Snow of any sort is a rarity here in Alabama, much less eight inches, and never quite so beautiful.
This is our second snow of the week, if you can believe it. I mean, really, is this Alabama or what? My dog Darcy loves it. When I let her out Tuesday morning, she approached the snow rather cautiously at first, then ran fast and furious, leaping and flouncing, nipping and biting at the snow. I’m thinking she’s part Saint Bernard! She’s yet to come in this morning, playing out in the snow for four hours now and counting.
The boys have been out of school, today making three days in a row. We’ve hunkered down as best we can, watching a lot of the Olympics (until figure skating comes on at which point the channel is changed pronto) and even engaging in a round or two of Twister (the boys that is, not me nor my husband). There’s been snowball fights and the construction of an igloo. My husband has ventured out to the office to get some work done every day this week. As for me, I’ve read some (thank you, digital library!) and, well, that’s about it, other than the usual laundry and cooking and such.
Like many of you, I’m winter weary. As I’ve told you before, I generally like winter. It suits me. But this year, this winter, this February, I am worn down and worn out. I suspect my weariness isn’t so much about winter itself as it is about other, more complicated things, things not really worth mentioning here, the sorts of emotions and transitions and stage of life issues that make one eager for spring not just for the warmer temperatures and, yes, maybe even sandals and ballet flats but even more so for fresh starts and new beginnings. And hope.
The sun that streams and blinds also melts. My driveway is fast becoming a slushy mess, and melted snow runs down from the roof and drips from the trees.
Winter will pass. Spring is coming.