The Snow’s Gift

So I'm in a new place, almost a new world it seems. I'm in the land of deers in the middle of town, and snow that's so common, that the locals groan loudly as the flakes begin to flurry happily outside the windows. They look at me strangely as I stare out the window like a child, excitedly seeing snow for the first time. My inner child leaps for joy as she considers sledding down the old hills I used to travel down so often when I was little.

This place is magnificent...

But it is also a little lonely. I was so lost the first two weeks, even to start today, wondering if I'd made the right choice to leave my family and everything I knew. But as I look out at those white flakes that so many others dreaded, I feel that familiar pull that initially brought me here in the first place. Snow and I somehow have a connection—a connection that started my love of Montana and strengthened my writing.

I remember the first time I stood in the snow by myself, as twilight poured over the mountains and my snow-piled hill. I walked my sled back up to my house, and a new, fresh powder began to fall over the world around me. I can still see the way the street lamps cast a purplish blue, sparkling shadow on my street. The world was so quiet... so peaceful.

I even remember that frozen pond hidden behind the old Herrington Farm. I remember the fear as I watched the others easily skate across its pearlescent surface… knowing I would fall. I was older than so many of them at 15, and I never cared that I hadn’t learned to ice skate until that moment. But then Tray sidled up beside me… taking my hand with such ease and protectiveness.

“Just look at me.” He’d said. And I did. I kept my gaze locked onto his piercing blue eyes… eyes as deep and bright as the ice below my feet. He was terrifying too, and for the same reason—the unknown. I’d never felt love before him, and I guess 15 was too young to think I’d found it… but in that moment, as we skated—wobbly at first, and then gliding—I was certain I knew what love felt like. Love felt like the gentleness of the snow, and like the easy grace of my feet on the ice. Love was peace…

Almost 15 years later, so long removed from the land I grew up in… and yet just as connected as I was then. I left Tray behind, all those years ago when I left town, seeking something more out in the world. Now, I find myself dreaming about first love… but that’s not why I came back. I have to remind myself of that--no, I had to come back to where I remembered feeling peace. My life has been chaotic the last few years… and it’s time to find my center again.

I feel the gentle crunch of freshly packed snow beneath my feet, forcing my frozen fingers into my fur-lined pockets. The sun has already set, the streetlights offering a gentle glow on the street, and in the silence… I feel this odd gift. Grace. Love. Peace. Forgiveness. In this moment, all alone on the snowy street, I’m actually starting to feel whole again.

I find myself smiling as the light that had started to fade inside of me, began to glow brighter again. I find myself falling into a snowbank, sinking into its cool embrace, and just giggling as the icy chill pricks at my skin.

This moment though? When I likely look crazy to any passerbyer… this is the moment I have found myself again.

(Adapted from a post from my old blog, "Living Life", November 3, 2015)