Have I mentioned how much I love the snow? Or, more precisely, I should say that I love it when it’s snowing. Snow is quieting. Like fog, snowfall softens and blurs the landscape and mutes the dark colors. It’s as calm and restful as the sea. When it’s snowing, the white can make the colors seem more vivid; or at least they are more intense to me. I love that.
I went for a long walk in the snow today. The property abutting mine has a low, open meadow, bound by hills. In midsummer, I discovered a wild berry patch in this wetland. The ruddy canes are all twisted now, tangled by windblown, wild grass and the dried out stalks of goldenrod. Filled with wild birds and swirling snow, it’s quite a beautiful place to stop for spell . . .