Silence so deep
“You wake up on a winter morning and pull up the shade, and what lay there the evening before is no longer there–the sodden gray yard, the dog droppings, the tire tracks in the frozen mud, the broken lawn chair you forgot to take in last fall. All this has disappeared overnight, and what you look out on is not the snow of Narnia but the snow of home, which is no less shimmering and white as it falls. The earth is covered with it, and it is falling still in silence so deep that you can hear its silence.” ― Frederick Buechner
There is something magical about awakening to a world that looks radically different than it did when you went to sleep the night before. No matter how much trouble snow may ultimately cause, or how gray and dingy the drifts become before melting away, the first sight of an unexpected snow always takes my breath away. Perhaps the new year has something of the beauty of freshly fallen snow: a blank canvas as yet untouched, framed by familiar surroundings that wear an added sparkle.