The Snowstorm

There is a wonderful quiet to it. A stillness draws my complete attention. Footsteps make no sound and a peacefulness descends. It is the beauty of the snowstorm.

I venture out into every so often just to confirm that it is real. The flakes surround me, encompass me. They are everywhere at once. There is a grace to their movement. There is a dignity about them. Together forming a blanket that envelopes my sight and my imagination. We are in our own universe.

I peer out the window. I fear I will be disappointed, but I am not. I am thankful.

I will wake up periodically in darkness. I will look into the streetlights and strain to confirm that the snow has decided to keep me company throughout the night.

In the morning I will fly down the stairs and out into the world to play with my new present. I will measure the depth with the legs of my pants and proclaim the greatness of it all.

And I will view a world that is unlike anything I have seen before. There will be a freshness and a vitality that was not there yesterday. There will be an importance to this day.

I am happy tonight knowing that as this snowstorm continues I am no different than the little child peering out the window thinking the same thoughts as me.