Thoughts of the Miraculous

I wrote this on November 11, 2008. But, I thought it was a nice posting for the Christmas season ... Season's Greetings to you All :)

Today is first snowfall.

I could smell it last night -- it smells of heavy anticipation.

And the sky is a strange shade of grey on white. When you wake up, you know it has snowed even before you look out the window. The air that filters into the room, between the curtain and the window's edge, is more bright, more sharp, but less warm.

I don't mind it. Snow is inevitable.

When snow comes, I feel a sense of relief. That indeed Edmonton is the same as it always has been -- spring, summer, fall, winter. Winter.

Even if we can't rely upon world financial markets or politics, we can still rely on winter.

Not to mention that everything looks ineffectual just before snowfall. The grass is yellow, flowers are wilting and the trees are almost bare, leaves clinging to the end of their branches.

But with that silver frost and layer of white outlining all that remains outside, all of a sudden the tree is beautiful again. Each branch made complex and purposeful once more.

Yes, snow uncovers the miraculous in the ordinary.