The Blizzard of 2015

I’m Sitting by a fire and watching the storm. We call it a blizzard. Most times we’d call it a “nor’easter,” but with sustaining high winds and low visibility it becomes a blizzard.

There is something exciting about watching nature’s fury from a place of comfort. I hope as many as can be are hunkered down for the duration, but I know that’s impossible. So I pray for the safety of all who must work, as we get on with the task of living and servicing the needs of so many.

I’ve seen a few blizzards in my time and while the fury and cold is dangerous there comes that moment when it’s over and the sun shares its luster on the new fallen snow with a squinting brightness.

Even the most cynical souls begrudgingly acknowledge the beauty of a blizzards aftermath before they shovel a walkable path to daily living. Dune-like drifts of white-smooth snow festoon the landscape before the wrinkled piles of shoveled snow disturb the symmetry. Eventually the dirt surfaces and turns the pristine white into gray lines on the shores of side roads while the snow-waves sustain their fleeting beauty far into the woods.

I trust all who read this missive are in their space of comfort and can feel the joy that nature’s tempest engenders if only for a moment.

UPDATE: In my area not much. Perhaps I should retitle this post, THE FIZZLE OF 2015.