The Snowy Day

A day like this is rare in this little corner of the earth, rare and precious. It began last night, in the gloaming, as the poem says. Isn't that a lovely word, gloaming? One that should be used more often, don't you think?  So it began in the gloaming, and steadily the deep drifts grew, the sky turned from grey to dark to blinding white, and gradually every beautiful thing was softened and every ugly thing was smothered in sparkling mounds of snow.  The woods are so peculiarly silent in snow, not a sleepy silence, but a wildly awake, silent, living jubilee. Every freezing gulp of air seems full of dancing diamonds that prickle your lungs and race through you until you, like the world around you, cannot help but sparkle. 
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The snow had begun in the gloaming,
And busily all the night
Had been heaping field and highway
With a silence deep and white.

Every pine and fir and hemlock
Wore ermine too dear for an earl,
And the poorest twig on the elm-tree
Was ridged inch deep with pearl.​
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 - The First Snowfall, James Russell Lowell

​Today on my Thoughtful Walk I have experienced snow in a new way - a snowy town. Never before have I lived so near a town during a snow fall that I could walk into it, straight down the center of unplowed roads.  And oh, it's a jolly sight!  Only a few other bold wanderers are out and about, and in each one there's a spark of goodwill and gaiety and a hearty greeting that just warms one's heart towards one's neighbors in a very pleasant way.  The storefronts are dark and the roads are unburdened by traffic, and, with very little imagination needed, this little town has returned to a bygone age, and I feel the slightest touch of sorrow at the realization that it cannot remain there. 
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I'm always astounded, when the snow falls, at the animal tracks that can be found.  Whether deep in the woods or on my doorstep, the world of the little creatures, that scurry about their daily lives unnoticed when the ground is hard, is suddenly visible in the snow.  Dainty bird prints cover my step with zig-zagged patterns beneath the pine cone bird feeders.  I found the tiny hand-prints of a raccoon crossing a log that fell across the creek, the heart-like prints of dozens of deer meandering in the old cemetery, and the widely spaced hopping prints of a rabbit.  The one that made me smile the most was the wide, deep trail of a duck's webbed feet, which led to the duck herself, sitting quite perplexedly on a frozen pond. 

Thus, having prepared their buds / against a sure winter
the wise trees / stand sleeping in the cold.

- Winter Trees, William Carlos Williams
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​Spring green still glows beneath the white, in a patch of watercress (Nasturtium officinale) still vibrant in a half-frozen creek, or a soft moss cushion clinging to a snow covered stone. At home fragrant narcissus are blooming against my frosty window panes, reveling in the light while protected from the cold. All around me new life seems eager to emerge, but spring must wait its turn today.  Today is for peaceful exuberance and wintery good cheer. Today is The Snowy Day.
 

​​The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood...
​

- Dust of Snow, Robert Frost