It's a curious contradiction to me that the most aggressive of winter storms can bring the softest sense of quiet stillness to my mood.
It takes me to the reliable metaphor of snow "blanketing the earth" and bringing with it a sentiment of safety, security and rest for all that lies underneath the blanket.
The purity of that safe place underneath the blanket, and that transient safe moment in time which only lasts as long as the blizzard is fresh, is serene respite from the challenging stretch of winter months and my usual mood of detachment from my least-favorite season.
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It IS a respite. Along with the snow comes stillness. Everything seems to come to a halt (at least here in Maryland, where we don't often get much snow, and when we do, everything shuts down). There's not much doing to be done--only being.
It can be such a peaceful time.
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