It's amazing: this tiny dusting of snow that shuts down neighborhoods and closes schools. Laughable, even, to this native New Yorker.
But who's complaining?
When amazing falls, you rejoice.
You call the kids, bundle up, and go for a hike. You cherish the lights and the cold and the nothing-like-it crunch of the new fallen flakes beneath your feet.
You laugh, throw snowballs, admire a neighbor's Frosty with a river rock for a nose.
You treasure the stones that show between the treads of a water-logged boot print on the path, notice the beauty you might not have in the days when you trudged many snowy months, so many miles from here. Because here, you know it will not last. A shift of one degree, perhaps, or two...and all the beauty melts.
So here is beauty: precious, fleet.
And it makes me reflect on my children, on this new life growing inside me, too, and all the changes we have undergone this fleeting autumn, now winding down to winter. With school cancelled and all of us snuggled together under one roof, it makes me think of things I have let go for a season, things I miss and hope to recall.
For a season, it is sometimes necessary to run free. We cherish the novelty. The crisp, clean breaths we draw in the presence of the new.
And then, if we are fortunate, we turn about and turn again toward home.