Snow, as benediction

It snowed on Saturday. I woke to the quiet that snow provides, sounds that are normal parts of a Saturday morning are muffled by the blanket of wet snow.

And it was perfect snowball snow.

But the snowballs would have to wait.  My eighth graders had to take the Explore test, a pre-pre ACT that is supposed to help them and the school see what classes they should be taking in high school.  This used to be a huge deal, but as the local high school is de-tracking (yeah!!) it’s more informational than anything. And my high school junior had to get to physical therapy and then to an all day rehearsal for the school play.

Our day began with a scramble for calculators, breakfast, dogs, and boots. My eldest drove herself to therapy and to rehearsal – her first foray this year into slippery snowy conditions. Not for the first time am I happy we have that old Volvo station wagon.

And then, after the flurry of the morning, I was alone in the house. The snow fell in heavy flakes. I knew that I would have to shovel (my husband was in NYC dealing with parentstuff), but that would be later. I just watched the snow. If you look in my backyard, you might not ever believe that you are in a city.  Just a day or two earlier the poem from the Writer’s Almanac was a reflection on snow and happiness. It had been a long time since I had thought of snow as a happy thing.  I don’t know if I ever have, as an adult.  (On second thought – I remember the first snow in this house – the twins were not yet two years old; that was a happy snow.) But now I could see it.

“Manna” by Joseph Stroud

Everywhere, everywhere, snow sifting down,
a world becoming white, no more sounds,
no longer possible to find the heart of the day,
the sun is gone, the sky is nowhere, and of all
I wanted in life – so be it – whatever it is
that brought me here, chance, fortune, whatever
blessing each flake of snow is the hint of, I am
grateful, I bear witness, I hold out my arms,
palms up, I know it is impossible to hold
for long what we love of the world, but look
at me, is it foolish, shameful, arrogant to say this,
see how the snow drifts down, look how happy
I am.

from Of This World. © Copper Canyon Press, 2009

So, now I wonder what the snow blessed in my life.

Snow, a benediction

I am blessed with life, great love, children, home, friends, dogs, warmth, work I love, health, family, children, words, music made by hand, food, gathering, an ancient Volvo, colleagues the world over, neighbors that are friends, friends that are neighbors, fiends, joy, astonishment, and did I mention children, and love.

The snow fell on all of these parts of my life, covering and connecting them. In the quiet of the house I acknowledged happiness.

4 Comments Add yours

  1. Lovely reflection. miss you, Kate. Hope we see you during this snowy time.
    xxo

    1. Kate Tabor says:

      I miss you all as well. I feel like I have just emerged from out of a fog. I’ve delivered this big project and now I get to find time to reconnect with everyone. I hope you all are well, and I thought of that night on our back porch before the photo workshop when I looked at the little house in the yard. What a lovely evening. I have missed much these past two months….
      xxo, indeed

  2. Sharon says:

    Happy to be a part (albeit a small one) of your life 🙂

    1. Kate Tabor says:

      It may seem (in the litany of things that I am blessed by) that you are a small part of my life, but that would just not be true. Fiendom is an important part of my happiness equation, and you and Steve happily share of your lives as well. For that I am thankful and very happy.

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