The first real snow of winter… its beauty stole my attention from whatever errand I was running that day. The light reflecting off the snow was a beacon, directing me toward solitude and peace. I pulled the car into the parking lot. I shut off the engine and my distractions and sat quietly for a moment, soaking up the last bit of warmth from my car and gazing at the wintry scene that lay before me. The ground was blanketed in white. Very few footsteps disturbed the snow. It was early still. Another week and the snow would be worn to earth by sleds and skis and snowshoes.
I stepped out into the cold, crisp air. Showers of snow fell from the tree ahead of me, crystals dancing across the light breeze, caught in the light of the rising sun. I walked toward the pond, remarking as I went how a fresh coating of snow can make anything seem light and pure. Old, dilapidated houses, lit up by twinkly white lights and a dusting of snow, suddenly looked beautiful and serene.
Along the path to the pond were looming lampposts. A worn green veneer, covered in snow, recalled a time since past – a time of radio shows and model Ts, a time of simplicity and innocence. It was quiet out and the world was still. People were just rising from the warmth of their beds, covers pulled high. The sound of snow crunching beneath my feet was the only break in the silence.
At the pond, I veered left and walked to the hillside where a path ran along the length of the park. It was a favorite place for runners in the summer time. But right then, in the early winter morning, there was just me. I paused to gaze at the sun as it rose behind the hillside. The giant evergreens cast long shadows across the snow. The sun twinkled through their flocked branches.
Life these days is fast paced and full of distractions. I try to remember to slow down once in a while, to live in the moment, and to appreciate what is around me. This day, I did just that. I took a walk and enjoyed the world that lay before me, a world that never ceases to amaze me with its beauty and grandeur.