“Kindness is like snow.  It beautifies everything it covers.”

— Anonymous

You may need to check for typos today, because I’ve just spent two hours blowing and shoveling a foot of snow, and my fingers still want to curl around the handle of a shovel.  SNOW!  That much requires all caps!  SNOW!

Oh, my goodness!  I’ve said it again!  I can’t help myself.  When I first awoke to a very early call from the school district saying there would be no classes today, I looked out the window and saw SNOW — the kind that requires all caps — lying silent and white over the entire world.    Bill Watterson, the artist who gave us Calvin and Hobbes once wrote, “Getting an inch of snow is like winning 10 cents in the lottery.”  I’m with Bill.  Small amounts of snow are simply an aggravation.  We still need to scrape them from the sidewalks, but their beauty does not cover all the blemishes of the winter world.  Give me a foot of snow, and I’ll wrestle my sweetheart for the chance to run the snowblower.

The sky was just beginning to brighten with the promise of a sunrise half an hour away.  I pulled on my stocking cap — the one that says JONES across the front, grabbed my thick working gloves and shoveled my way to the shed.  There it was — the wondrous machine that would save my back from breaking.  I primed the starter, pulled the cord, and it burst to life.  For the next hour, I followed wherever it led me as we cleared the parking area at the back end of our yard.  We worked in dusky pre-dawn light until the sky began to glow a vibrant blue that just shouted, “the storm is over,” as it overtook the lingering clouds that raced on to their next destination.  A pale white moon still hung amid the clouds, its silhouette barely visible against the sky blue backdrop.  Daylight revealed two-inch think clumps of snow clinging to every branch of every tree.  When my walk with the blower took me to the front sidewalk, I could have sworn for a moment that the ornamental pear trees lining the street were in full bloom; but today’s flowers were made of snow, not of fragrant springtime petals.

My work is done; and as I sit at my desk and look out the window, I see that the sun is now high enough to light up the snowscape and make its crystals sparkle.  Soon the trees’ snow flowers will begin to fall, just as the springtime flowers take flight and blow like flurries on the breeze.  I can’t help but feel on days like these that the melting begins when our hearts fill with warmth as they take in the beauty of snow.  Not just a 10-cent lottery win, but SNOW!!!  I must go now, there’s a spot out back that’s just waiting for a snow angel.  I think that would be me!