A jar of snow

Mother Nature struck once again last night, showering the city with fine crystals of snow that settled into powdery blankets.   I sat on a small side street in the Village, noticing how the tall street lamps highlighted the swirling patterns and clean sparkle of the falling snow, and wished for a moment that I could bottle that moment the way we collect sand from our favorite shores.

Snow is the most fickle of all the weather personalities.  As each flake falls we are filled with the excitement and anticipation of what is to come.  Standing covered, wet and cold, our body temperature rises, our cheeks flush, and our inner child comes out to play.  The snow then settles, nestling itself on sidewalks, trees, grass, buildings, and any place it finds a welcoming surface.  Bit by bit these flakes bond together, forming pristine layers.  Soon we are gazing out at a winter wonderland, a sight that brings peace to even the most active minds and heavy hearts.  We long for a moment to stop time... take this image and store it in a place where it can never melt.

But soon after the last flake has fallen, the peacefulness is broken.  Plows burst in spreading sand and salt, reclaiming their territory, disrupting the picturesque serenity.  Temperatures rise, footprints stomp through, snow turns to slush, and soon our Norman Rockwell painting has turned into a cold gray battleground.  Until one day, the snow is simply gone.  All that remains are small piles that have survived the beating sun, and serve as reminders of what was once there.

The city in the snow provides a false sense of security.  It calms our mind and eases our hearts, but it's always temporary.  Moments seem more intense due to the dramatic background, but we are not to be fooled... the snow may make everything beautiful, but what lies underneath remains the same.

This will most likely be the last big snowfall of the winter.  It's now March, and we sit eager with anticipation for the first buds on the trees to blossom, hear the birds begin to chirp again, see the butterflies emerge from their cocoons, and shed our bulky coats, hats, and gloves for t-shirts, flips flops, and sun-kissed skin.  

But on my memory mantle will always sit that jar of snowfall.  Those moments that I bottled up for eternity.  The images of winter that brought hope to my heart and warmth to my soul.  

Enjoy the snow day...