I’m sorry for the jinx. Really I am. It seems that the minute the last
months column was fresh from the printer, winter zapped us. The cold
settled in, ponds froze once again, and a few scattered snow storms left
dustings enough to at least delay school, much to Sam’s delight. And
then came Valentines Day.
I should have known that we were due. After all, my
husband’s birthday is February 15th, and over the years, snow
storms have interfered with surprise parties that I’d planned on more
than one occasion. And so, it should have been no surprise when we went
to sleep on February 13th, having been assured by Dave
Roberts and Accu-Weather that by morning the temperatures would have
risen enough to turn the flurries into rain.
I woke a few times that night to hear the winter
wind howling around the eves of my home, rattling the windows and the
tap, tap, tap of what I innocently thought was rain.
At 6:00 a.m., the phone trilled me awake, and too
dark yet to see outside, I answered, instinctively knowing that it was
the school phone chain to advise of a change to the school schedule.
Listening to the voice on the other end, I pressed
my face to the window to see what exactly was so bad that school was
being cancelled, and hoping against all hope, that whatever it was, just
might be enough to keep me home from work too.
It’s always fun to wake your kids up and tell them
there’s no school. On a regular day, I scream at, tickle, and pull the
covers off of Sam, yell “get up” at least fifty times and do everything
but pour water on his head to rouse him. And the only reason I don’t do
that is because I’d be left to deal with the sloppy wet bed. But on this
day, shaking him softly to let him know there was no school, he was
suddenly wide awake, jumping out of bed and into his clothes lickety
split and ready to start the day.
And so, as the light slowly dawned and the window
panes continued their soft tap, I drank my coffee and watched the world
through the television set.
The electricity hiccupped a few times and I feared
that I wouldn’t get my shower in, but I did, and I headed outside into a
winter wonderland.
I
live one and a half miles from work, and I can usually be there in two
minutes flat. It took me ten that day. I was wishing that they made ice
skates for tires. It might have made the drive easier. But as I crawled
along, I was amazed at the Valentine’s Day gift that we were given. For
everywhere, the ice glittered like millions of tiny diamonds. Shining on
the road ahead, from the branches of trees and atop the snow, a million
sparkles guided my way down the road. The weeds in the fields were like
thousands of tufts of discarded Christmas tree tinsel and it was a sight
to behold. I was amazed at the beauty.
Granted, this was a storm like no other. Ice isn’t
plowable. It isn’t even shovable. It definitely isn’t snow blowable. But
it is slippery and it does last. For days after the storm, I was still
fielding complaints at work about icy roads and slippery sidewalks. “But
it sure is pretty”, I wanted to say to those who were ready to bite my
head off. And after all, like it not, this is what happens in winter.
And so, Sam has enjoyed a few things that he really
has not experienced in his young life. Things from my youth like
sledding until you thought your nose would fall off and ice skating
until your feet turned into blocks of ice, and those early morning calls
that feel like so much freedom.
And I experienced the diamonds of Valentines Day as
they sparkled everywhere I looked, reminding me that winter may not be
so bad when it creates that much beauty.
So thanks for listening, and again, sorry for the
jinx. But I may not be too sorry, after all.
