I wish it would snow. And since I’m wishing, I wish for about three inches of soft, fluffy snow, enough to close schools and give workers unscheduled leave or the opportunity to telecommute. I don’t want a blizzard such as New England endured recently, just some quiet, beautiful snow that we can watch and enjoy, bake cookies and have homemade soup, sit by the warmth of a Duraflame log in the fireplace and read a good book or just doze off.
We’ve had a number of “clippers” come through this year, leaving a dusting on the grass and a few days of “wintry mix” which just makes a mess or ices things up. I don’t want that. I want some real snow.
I think I also want the chance to slow down, to think about where we’ve been and where we’re going, to count our blessings and to make plans. It seems we’ve experienced vicariously on the news a surfeit of violence and suffering, of evil and cruelty, and while I would affirm that the vast majority of people are kind and good, it becomes easy to focus on the negative. A good snowfall would go a long way toward remedying that.
It’s nearly March, and while we have had snow as late as May 1 around here (in 1962, to be exact), the time for snow this year is running out.
I was minded of the words to an anthem by American composer Joseph Martin, “Canticle of Peace.” They are:
Peace, fall like a gentle snow.
Fall fresh on the wounded heart.
Come blanket our ev’ry fear
And let the healing start.
Cover ev’ry anxious thought,
And all our fears erase.
May we know the tender touch of love’s redeeming grace.