Oh, the anticipation of watching fluttering snowflakes, backlit by the street light, blanket the road in front of our house, wreaking serendipitous havoc upon the rigid confines of our unforgiving schedules, gently prying us loose from our slavish adherence to the rules governing who and what we are and where and how we must be.
Oh, the hope with which we burrow into our warm beds that the long, cold night will swirl the snow into something that will convince the Powers That Be to just leave us alone, just for a day…maybe even two?
Oh, the morning’s dazzling perfection: rounded contours of a blinding, retina-bleaching whiteness that covers everything, stunning brilliance breathed in deeply by our joyful realization that time has stopped, just for now.
Oh, the giddiness of a last-minute reprieve from the daily grind of being a small cog in a giant machine.
Oh, the delicious warmth of sipping hot chocolate while still dressed in pajamas, savoring the quiet peace of a snowy morning.
Oh, the delight of watching young parents pulling a sledful of bundled up toddlers along a snowy sidewalk.
Oh, the magic of believing that any Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday or Friday can be liberated from its straightjacket by a miraculous mix of low temperatures and precipitation.
Oh, the joy, however fleeting, of nailing down the present onto the soul-stinging clarity of now! Oh, the joy!
Photo Credit: Snowy-Morning-Sweden-Photo-Via-Designchic, http://besttravelphotos.me/?attachment_id=12528