I realize almost everyone in the US is ready for spring that acts like spring.  I know most folks have had more than enough snow this year.  But I won’t complain next week if we get more, as they are beginning to predict.  It will eventually stop and, God help me, it will be Virginia-humid and 90 degrees.  Count on it.

I have loved the snow this winter, even with this driveway and all the shoveling.  (And, no, we do not have helpful neighborhood kids who come over and offer to shovel with us – it’s all us.)  For someone with a blog called Snow Day I didn’t pause often or long enough this winter.  Ready-made excuses drifted up to my door but I barreled through most of the called snow days sitting at the computer, as usual. 

There was one early morning storm that caught my attention for about 40 minutes as I drank coffee and wrote haiku by hand on the legal pad.  I stopped long enough to simply watch what was happening.

At the edge of spring I’m pausing to remember that morning and breathe it in one last time.  Whether we’ve seen the last of the snow or not, I give thanks for the beauty of what’s been and for the traces it leaves behind.

Gentle rain of snow

Awakens me before dawn

Stills my attention

* *

Grey sky, bluish light

White fuzz muffle flaking down

Quiet streets outside

* *

Sound of heat blowing

Feel of fleece robe on my skin

Sight of world in white

* *

Snow, awaken me

Show me a new world outside

Absorb our noise now

* *

Thank you, God, for this

Day of snowflakes and stillness

Gift of present time