Teachers and students huddled around TV sets in the early morning hours the past two days, hoping and praying their school system had called a snow day. For Olmsted Falls schools, there were two in a row. The church office follows school closings, so we’ve had a break too. It looks like there was about 14 inches of snow piled in my driveway over the past 24 hours.
I pulled on some jeans, thick socks, and boots and carried the garbage out to the curb this morning while the snow was still fresh and clean and the sounds of the world seemed muffled into a blessed hush. I hate to even leave footprints in that pure whiteness that blankets the world like a fluffy down comforter. Everything looks different and new and pure. Of course, I destroyed the mood and the neighborhood silence when I used my cantankerous old snowblower to clear the drive and sidewalks and then scraped the front porch with a shovel.
There’s something about a snow day that tells me to build a fire in the fireplace, make a pot of tea, and settle in. Then, after I’ve read the morning paper and checked email, it gets boring and I’m ready to pull on the boots again and go for a walk. I love the beauty of snow frosting the evergreens in my neighborhood.