First Snow
I was blessed today to spend a few hours with a good friend over chai lattes, sitting behind the glass of the coffee shop window watching the first snow of autumn. We watched hooded people come and go along the sidewalk while the wind twisted and twirled in jackets of white flakes like a thousand invisible dancers. I don't know what it is about snow that I love so much, but it feels so final and concilatory, like nature tucking you in under the blanket, lulling everything into a peaceful white silence. Soft and forgiving as feathers. Good memories from my childhood are blanketed in snow. Many of them involve visiting my grandparents in their home on Vancouver Island at Christmas, amidst the farms and forests. Excitement would mount as we pulled up the steep wooded driveway of their property under the thick canopy of cedar and fir, the view of chimney smoke puffing away on a whispy wind while warm lights shone like beacons from within. As we climbed the wooden steps to the house,...