When I took the dog outside this morning at 6:15, the air was full of tiny white flakes. Our rather drab and dingy apartment complex was transformed into a winter palace and we were the first royalty to step outdoors. I don’t know that the dog was very appreciative, but as I stood there watching her sniff little piles of white fluff it didn’t feel so bad that I had to get up early.
The thing about several days of snow is that every time it snows, it covers up the old stuff – which was getting grey and dirty and had too many footprints – and makes it all clean and beautiful again. When I was little, I felt so hopeful as long as it was still snowing. If it keeps on snowing, school might be cancelled tomorrow! We might get stuck inside the house and get to watch movies all day! Pullman might get buried under a blizzard and we’ll have to make a tunnel to get out our front door!
While it was still snowing, anything was possible. As soon as it stopped, my happy visions of the future were confronted with a lousy half inch of white and parents who were only too happy to take the kids to school. Even though I am now the owner of a car that struggles to drive up ice-covered hills, I still want it to keep snowing. I know that it only complicates a life that must go on no matter what the weather, but I look outside and feel a not-so-small twinge of disappointment when I see that this morning’s snow has stopped and the sidewalks are shoveled. Maybe it will snow again tonight. Maybe.
As promised, the finished pomegranates.