The Beauty of White

The first time I really realized how beautiful a snowfall is was last winter. It was early, early morning and I was standing on the platform at the train station waiting for my daily train. I wouldn't say it was super cold, but surely not t-shirt and shorts weather.

As I did daily, I tried to stay in the train station vestibule until the last possible moment, but as I did daily I inevitably left the vestibule earlier than need be so I could be one of the first people to get on the train and have my pick of seats. Or, as I had decided in my own mind - so I could get "my" seat.

Regardless, on this particular morning as I walked to the spot my regular car would be sure to stop at I glanced at the tracks that were to the right of me. It was at that very moment I realized how beautiful a snowfall could be.

There was something about the way the light from the street light illuminated the falling snow. It was the first thing, in what seemed like a long time, to give me a brief moment of calm and peace. I continued to stare at that same sight until my train came moments later. I don't know exactly how long I was doing that, but honestly it didn't matter.

Fast forward a year. It's almost mid-January and we've gotten a few decent snow falls already. Most people I know are cursing out the snow left and right. As I stare out my window and watch the snow float through the air I reflect back to a time when I too complained endlessly about the wet, white flakes. Instead, my thoughts start to drift back to that winter morning in early '08 and a smile graces my face.

With that in mind, it's time for me to get ready to run some errands.

Until later . . .