I walked abroad in a snowy day;
I asked the soft snow with me to play…
William Blake
Today is a snow day, a play day, a day with an excuse to slow down. A day to putter about in our pajamas, if we like with no agenda or a moving agenda or an agenda of our very own design from top to bottom. A day to sip slowly hot drinks like hot cocoa, steaming peppermint tea, and hot cider. A day to watch a favorite movie or read a good book from cover to cover while under the covers, a favorite down comforter in bed or a wool throw on the couch. A day to get lost in a world as fantastic as the falling snow outside NOLD as night approaches, snowflakes catching the flash to sparkle like magic stardust. A day to dream and mingle with one's thoughts for a few extra minutes with the encouragement of the surrounding quiet.
Winter seems to be digging in its heels as is typical for February in the Northeast. I swing from feeling tired of the darkness, the cold, the muck, the gear, the day-in-day-out effort and feeling grateful for the beauty, the fresh air, the stillness, the slowness, the seasonal cycle that prepares nature to burst forth and bring forth in short order. I will muddle through awash in ideas and words and hope. Even in the midst of a snowstorm, The Little Free Library soldiers on and poetry bursts forth with pen in hand, a haiku the gift:
flurries
fall daily
air
alight in thick stillness
my
thoughts chatter on
