I have always had a deep admiration for snow. Words are not adequate to describe the beauty of the small, descending geometric patterns, painting the sky with their softly powerful presence. But most years, the beauty also wreaks havoc on the routine of daily life. The world around me takes a pause from its constant business; I could take a walk in the white, surveying the quiet delicacy and the evergreen air, but in most instances, retreating to my house and burying myself in blankets with a warm cup of hot chocolate in hand would be ideal. The solitude that a snowstorm brings can sometimes feel melancholic: roads are layered in ice, I can't go anywhere, and the darkness of snowy nights feels ominously endless.
Not this year, though.
I was sitting in my Spanish Zoom class today, conferring with my classmates, finding joy in what I could. In my peripheral, tiny white dots danced across the open sky. I looked out my window and smiled; the snow smiled back at me. The tiny flurries quickly gained strength as I sang Spanish Christmas carols and shared laughter with my peers. Most years, I quickly feel the warmth of winter as soon as December emerges. This year, I hadn't felt winter's embrace until today.
The aforementioned negative effects of snowfall do not affect me this year. I am already in a forced solitude; I have nowhere to go, so I may as well bask in the magic of the world around me. As I'm sitting here writing this, I feel so incredibly comforted by the darkness. I appreciate the snow's beauty now more than ever because I've been deprived of it for so long.
So thank you, snow. I welcome you with open arms and as much gratitude as I can muster.