May second. I look out the window this morning at the absence of color as the newly green grass is covered in a thick, fluffy, white blanket of snow. The sky is a cloudy grey, the world white, even the brown of the tress is mostly covered in almost eight inches of snow.
The rumors of this storm at the beginning of the week threatened to pull me into a mood as grey as the sky. We had spent the weekend on the deck getting the gardens ready, all of us getting a little red on our cheeks and noses. The windows were open and fresh air was filling the house after a long hard winter. Another storm seemed unbearable.
Caught by the beauty.
Caught by the peace.
Caught by the quiet.
Quickly I closed the door to shut out the cold, ready to get on with my day inside. Easier said than done. Something kept drawing me to the picturesque scene. It wasn't enough to observe the scene from my living room. I just stood in the driveway absorbing the quiet. It was early, the snow blowers were not yet in use. A chickadee flits from tree branch to growing and back again. The snow falling in snow globe fashion. Down the street, a tree branch cracks and falls to the ground.
I found every reason to be outside today, whether it was shoveling back-breaking heavy snow or shaking snow from tree limbs and branches. I couldn't come inside. The anticipated disgruntled feelings are replaced by a surprising calm and peace.
Yes, it is May.
Yes, I am more than ready for the gardens to come out of their slumber. Ready for the colorless landscape to be painted with brilliant colors.
However, for one more day, I am content.
I am at peace in the tranquil morning.
And it is good.
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