Even though February holds such out of the ordinary events like my birthday, and Valentine's Day, and President's Day (yes, it has its own kind of excitement), it really is the worst of all the months.
It's gray. And it's wet. And if you listen closely you can hear a low mumble that sounds like blah blah blah on repeat.
But if by sheer magic the rain is replaced with snow?
February becomes all kinds of wonderful.
It started snowing yesterday,
and then it snowed,
The school district closed early, so both Jason and Jules were home early. And while I'm sure the snow felt less-than-magical for those who were/are driving in it, it was glorious for those of us who could just be home and enjoy it.
Even I, a self-avowed hater of all things cold, have wandered out to admire the beauty of it because standing under a sky of new fallen snow feels like time standing still.
Here in the land where winter is marked by unending days of gray and rain, we wish for just one day of snow. A day to watch the flakes fall and transform the verdant landscape to glistening white. A day to shush our feet through the snow and brush the flakes from our eyes.
And our senses dance on tippy toe when the day arrives.
We stand outside to take in the way light reflects off a field of snow.
Or we stop to admire trees we ordinarily ignore.
We listen to the quiet, the way the snow muffles the noises of everything.
It's quiet out there.
The best kind of snow quiet.
I know a few inches of frozen rain cannot really transform an entire month, but it transforms me, bringing out the romantic, the poet, the words of Robert Frost.
And that is pretty magical after all.