Light and Dark

It snowed this morning, and I walked to school on an errand in the drifting white mass, and then because I could not get enough of the snow and the freshness in the air, I wound my way around the park with its small lakes, stepped in to the frozen over community gardens, laughed out loud at the dogs playing in the drifts of snow. There is something about the combination of stark, bare branches all piled with white that catches my breath every time. Still no camera, so these little moments of beauty are ones that must live on in memory alone, and yet perhaps it is better that way, to be caught in the moment of appreciation and beauty and joy and wonder, instead of trying desperately to fit those moments into a rectangular viewfinder, intent on the capture instead of the magic of the moment.

I feel incredibly happy right now. Peaceful, content, giggling like a child as I plunge my leg into 8, 10 inches of powdery snow, making my way down stairs sideways and one step at a time, like a toddler learning to walk for the first time. Maybe the love affair will dissipate after several more months of wind and ice and sleet and trudging through slush, but right now I count this one of my happiest memories yet in 2009, walking in an almost uninhabited world, blanketed in calm and quiet.

The past two weeks have been frenetic, overwhelming, jam-packed with numerous life lessons rolled into a single ball that always remains slightly out of reach. But that's why I feel a sudden sense of calm and relief right now; without the contrast, today would just be another day for the doldrums, passing unremarkably through the life history of One. And even at the apex of contentment and quiet joy I know that the downward slope beckons, unavoidably so. I can but temper the troughs, seek out a soft landing, but I know it is coming and I know I must accept that. That's one reason I love blogging, that I am able to etch down small moments to look back upon when the world does not feel cheery or bright. Remember.