And now the world has its white blanket, and everything is right again. The decay of the last season is now hidden, and we can pretend that it never happened. We can forget how fleeting life is and just embrace the solace of the white snow. That is not such a terrible thing, after all. Sometimes too much knowledge of the inner workings of things can take its toll on the spirit.
 |
| The snow hides a million flaws . . . |
With the falling of the snow comes the falling of the
silence. It’s strange how it happens,
but it always does and I’m convinced that the snow brings the silence. It’s as if an announcement has been made, and
all the earthly creatures must abide by this secret proclamation. Even the crows, such noisy and shrill birds,
are subdued.
Now we go to bed not knowing what to expect in the
morning. The weatherman can tell us a
little here and there, but he’s not always right. In fact, he’s frequently wrong. So now we are unsure how to plan our days,
and we must always add in the possibility of a great deal more work with snow
and ice removal. The wind blows severely and the house cracks and a strange groaning sound can be heard in the
chimney. This adds to our secret fear
when we climb into our beds, but we don’t tell anyone.
When the sun goes down, the silence is broken, and the
drumbeats of the Lord of Winter pick up their pace. He is not done with us yet. In fact, he has not even started. The Sun King may have been reborn, but his
day to rule is far in the future.
Perhaps it was just a dream and he really died, after all. The snow blots out my memory.
