14/12/2025
Good blessed morning. What a gift to wake to the snow, an invitation for this to be a day of rest, of quiet, of insulation from the noise.
As I step outside, I wonder what the squirrels think of the snow… do they delight in it the way that we do?
Or the birds, puffing their feathers to twice their size, or so it seems.
And what about the deer that just crossed the road in front of me? Its hooves meeting the hard surface of snow on pavement back into the soft surface of brush.
What does the deer make of the snow? Does it feel refreshing? Does it feel vulnerable against the white landscape?
Somehow, the animals of the land find a way to forage and take refuge.
And as for the snow—for now, the magic of its embrace. For later, the magic of its melting. Like time on a branch, drip for drop, finding its way to sky again. Or so the cycle goes.
Let it snow. Let it snow. Let it snow.