I’ve always loved the snow.
I love the way it crunches underneath my feet. It makes me feel strong and bold. I love the very slight sense of danger that comes with it. Not fear, exactly, but rather the way it makes you realise that every step could be dangerous if you are careless or unlucky. I for one am never careless in the snow, although I can’t speak with confidence to my luck. I’ve never had a vast majority of that in stock.
I love it’s beauty. The look of it. The way it makes everything seem to shimmer and sparkle. Like I’m living in a cartoon wonderland. I love how it makes the world grow softer. Figuratively, in the way people move with less ease and more care or even abscond the outside world altogether. Literally, in the way it dampens all sounds with it’s blanket. I was always in awe of that. It made me want to stand still, especially at night, amongst this utter quiet. Forego the crunching under my boots to listen to the way it absorbs those distant sounds that disturb it and instead return this warm comforting silence. These days it pleases me especially, now that many sounds are too harsh for my ears.
I love the unexpected spontaneity in how it shows up and that it inspires in people.
But what I love most is the way it demands you to relinquish all control. The way it derails my entire country with just a few tiny flakes. As if mother nature looks at us, rarely and says “You there, who successfully created your land in my sea, forget not that I can destroy you again, with nothing but the same water you defy.”
We don’t get many harsh winters here lately, we deal most with wind and rain now. I remember distinctly the delight and following — of skating across the lake that was once part of the ocean when I was young, but this hasn’t been possible in decades. Instead now we have rain and wind and on very rare occasion, some snowfall, at the very tail end of winter. Whenever we do, the entire country crumbles, unable to cope with the severity of this unexpected weather. After the delight has passed and playing has been done, people grumble and complain. Nothing happens the way it should, schedules become meaningless, travel almost impossible. Truly, nothing can be counted on and no one is in charge of their own day anymore. Strangely, that’s exactly what I like about it.
There are only 2 things to keep in mind when the snow falls.
First: Be prepared. This is the easy part and the part where you can achieve a near perfect sense of control. You can prepare as meticulously and thoroughly as you like or not and hope for the best.
Second: Give yourself over wholly and completely to the whims of the flakes. To expect nothing. To know you are no longer in charge. To be flexible to all change and count every successful endeavor a blessing.
It’s strange that someone like me would enjoy this so much, seeing as I’m the type of person to greatly appreciate having a sense of control. But when it snows, that is no longer a real option. All you can do is prepare and hope for the best. It isn’t that I have faith. That I fully trust things will be allright. It isn’t that at all.It’s the fact that there is no other option but to relinquish control, so there is no choice for me to make. The only option I have is to be prepared and to enjoy it while it lasts.
ETA: I just caught on that I was being an oversensitive drama-queen. Let’s pretend that didn’t happen shall we? 😗 🎶