First Snow

Waking up to a light powder of snow this morning filled me with a sense of joy. It was still dark outside. That made sense because it was just after four o'clock. The only reason I peered out the window was that the room seemed to have a pearly glow that usually means there's a wonderland reflecting back into the warmth within. 

I went into the living room and turned on the deck lights, standing there to watch the slow swirl for a few moments. Then, with a yawn and a stretch, I returned to the bedroom and crawled back under the covers. I even closed the window first for John's sake. He hates it when I leave the window open while it's snowing.  

We don't even have an inch on the ground yet, and nothing new is falling now. I'm not sure, but I think it's done. I realize what's on the ground won't last long. Our temperatures should rise into the forties today, and the rest of the week will be in the fifties and sixties. Still, I always feel the sense of celebration overtake me, like blessings drifting from the skies. 

I'm overwhelmed daily with the realization that we live in a wonderful place. Inside and out, I could never ask for more—and I have never been happier anywhere.