SNOW
Why do we love or hate snow in our neighbourhood?
What does it teach us, when we confront it?
How do we treat it?
Is it the icing on the cake?
Is it the magnifying glass that exposes the intricate beauty of nature?
Is it the imaginary brick wall that says “Stop! Look! Listen!”
Is it a danger, a pain, an inconvenient visitor? or a joy we wish for, because of the quiet it brings, that forces us to either stay sheltered or dress for the occasion to play and laugh with others on snowy slopes.
How softly it dresses the trees and mountains and reflects the sun.
How mesmerizing it is, as it falls from the heavens; how quietly fascinating.
As a child, I remember catching snowflakes on my tongue, while the rest of my face was gently bombarded by others landing on my skin.
What better way to get hurried humans to stop and thank God, or the Omniscient Creator, for giving us life’s breath and our five senses, to be able to behold snow as it interrupts our rushed routines and makes us reassess the important things and people in our lives—in case we haven’t learned that lesson over the past two years. The winter environment is calling us to pay attention. Compared to noisy rain, powerful winds, and noisy, powerful hail, snow falls silently, while we aren’t watching.
Unless we have to drive in it. Well, that’s another perspective to consider. I admit, cars driving near me on packed snow in downtown Winnipeg produced a symphony of loud crunching sounds that frightened me as I rode my bike. (Forget about seeing the road markings!) But in Vancouver, it usually doesn’t take long for snow to become slippery slush. And considering that many people have adjusted to working from home, there aren’t as many cars on our city streets. Without snow tires and experience driving in snow, it’s risky business. People are taking walks , to maintain their health and sanity.
Initially, we don’t like that it has that power over our lives. It’s hard to deny, avoid or shovel. But we need the time to stop and think of all the things we should be grateful for, as nature sleeps, under a beneficent blanket, to prepare for regeneration. Constant growth can’t go on forever, just as economists know. We need nature to teach us the value of a ‘dead quiet’ time, to step back from growth and appreciate what we have, whether nature’s gift or something of our own creation. We should use this time to regroup, particularly in this fearful, irrational period, when all we get is news of disease and death. Some of us have decided to turn off the news, ‘lose’ our smart phones and say No to consumerism.
Is this all a magnificent plan to get the world to stop shopping? What a thought! Maybe. But I still check out the weather forecast before I venture out…
Happy snowy New Year!
Fiona