I'm looking out this morning at a blanket of snow. I wish it could have stayed as it was yesterday in thick clumps on the trees, still white and unstained by salt and exhaust.
This is typically the time of year when Scott and I begin to look at each other and ask, "Why do we live here again?" But I've been strangely thankful for the quiet insulating beauty of the snow this week. Call me crazy.
It was good to take a partial snow day. To curl up and watch a movie, to fill the house with the smell of cookies baking (I always crave them when it snows), to put a puzzle together. Sometimes we need a day to rest, and thanks to our not-so-diligent plow man and a foot of snow on the driveway, we got it yesterday. And it was lovely.
Wherever you are today, my friends, I hope you find a pocket of rest and a reason for simple, quiet joy.