The beauty of a snowfall

I stand in the center of a pure white field. Tiny flakes of uniquely shaped ice swirl and dance before my eyes. They dance to a symphony of music only they can hear. The wind adds its own accompaniment to the dance; whistling through the branches before racing across the field trying to beat its own speed record. The sun shines on each flake causing diamond sparkles that temporarily blind the eye. The flakes pile, one upon the other, building cocoons for the plants that sleep beneath them.

The wind, now slower, picks up loose flakes and twirls them into a new dance before depositing them against a solid surface where they settle upon their mates building a drift higher than the stone wall they rest against. The flakes on top of the soaring wall of snow begin to swirl, drop and settle against a new surface where their mates will help to build another wall. The trees, drooping in their winter hibernation, smile indulgently as the snowflakes build up against their feet, warming their toes against the cold of the storm.

The field, now covered with blue and white sparkles of diamond-like flakes, shines with the newness of its winter blanket. The grass and bushes beneath the snow sleep warm and cozy in their now protected covering. Leaves that fell from the trees during the autumn cycle now lie still beneath their covering, waiting for springs thaw and their renewal as food for the new growth.

A flake lands on my mitten-covered hand and rests for a moment. I take a closer look. Each spike of glistening ice smiles at me as I admire its splendor. Then the wind gently takes the flake away to rest with its mates against a wall or tree. Another lands and is joined by a friend; their spikes interwoven where they lay. They rest for a moment in all their glory and then swirl away with another gentle gust of wind.

Time seems to stand still as I stand in the white wonderland and admire each flake as it swirls and dances around me. Silence fills the air broken only by the occasional whistle of the wind through the distant trees. It is as if the world is holding its breath, waiting for the finally of beauty to end so it can breathe once more. I hold my own breath in wonder at the beauty of the world at this tiny moment in time. I have been gifted with a chance to witness the beauty of a snowfall first-hand before it is lost in the passing of time.

The moment seems to last for an eternity until the growl and grind of a snow plow interrupts the quiet beauty. Snow that has fallen so gracefully upon the road is now carelessly swept away and mixed with sand and salt in an ugly heap upon the sidewalk.

As I leave the white field that is no longer peaceful and quiet, I wonder at the creation of beauty that can be so easily destroyed. But then, it would not be a wonder to behold if it lasted for an eternity. The air around me is once more filled with the daily noises of cars, snow plows, children laughing, and radios blaring. I smile in remembrance and wonder when I will be privileged to witness the beauty once more.