“Sunshine cannot bleach the snow, nor time unmake what poets know.” –Ralph Waldo Emerson

There is nothing more peaceful or magical than waking up to discover that the whole world outside your window is covered with snow. It doesn’t matter if it’s Christmas or not, although it does help, or even if you were expecting it and hoping for a day off of school. A snow day, in any sense of the phrase, is always wonderful.

Yesterday, the sky gods blessed my last few days of home with six inches of snow. And now, as I look outside my window, more is still falling two weeks after Christmas and two days before I leave. My window is all icy and my street and garden are covered. It is on snow days that I miss the huge pine tree that stood outside my window for eighteen years. As soon as I woke up yesterday morning and now today, I had the same song stuck in my head. Have a listen.

This snow is a perfect end to a perfect Christmas break. Even though I’ll be home for the weekend in two weeks, I know it’s going to be a few months until I spend any good length of time in Kentucky. While I’ve gotten used to living far away, the early days of next week will be somewhat difficult, as I re-adjust to school and store my homesickness away until I have time to concentrate on it, which is never. So I’m covered, because I’m always too busy living to focus on not being at home.

This semester is going to be fun. I can feel it. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking. But I’m going to put the Walt Disney mantra into effect and believe him when he said “If you can dream it, you can do it”. I have lots of dreams and lots of things I want to do and I just need some calculated oomph to kick start my plans. I will not project, I’ll stay on my own mat and I’ll be focused. I hope. Hope is the thing with feathers, right?

Too many things are happening, and the semester hasn’t even started yet. I have so many things to do before I leave, but all I want to do is enjoy the quiet that comes after the snow. Snow is lucky and magical and perfect. And I’m taking it with me back to the hill.

Snowflakily yours,

S.



My street, January 7

The way a crow

Shook down on me

The dust of snow

From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart

A change of mood

And saved some part

Of a day I had rued.

–Robert Frost

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