I happen to live in a very dry area - the eastern Sierra Valley of Northern California. You’ve heard all about our wildfires. I’ve written about them. They’re the real deal.
We. Need. Snow.
This winter, so far, has been sparse. So when we heard about the #snowpocalypse approaching, our ears perked up. That being said, we’ve had a number of forecasted storms downgraded or erased entirely in recent weeks. They just haven’t delivered as promised.
I remember the other day when I went to sleep. The storm hadn’t moved in yet, but the winds were howling, signaling their impending arrival.
At one point in the night, I awoke - as I often do. And there was that sound. Or rather, the un-sound. The familiar sound of complete muffled stillness. The sound of snow.
It’s an audible thing. Different than a typical quiet night. It’s the difference between laying in your silent room outside the covers and having the comforter over your head. It’s quieter than quiet.
Some say that they experience God in nature. And I get it. Until I start thinking about being stranded in nature. On a cold winter night. In the wild Sierra Nevada mountains. Wounded. No cell reception. Shivering. Hearing howling, growling creatures in the bushes around me. I don’t know if I’d see God there. (Okay, I admit, I watch the survivalist reality show Alone too much…)
But there, that quiet night, safe and warm in bed, as snow blanketed my parched Sierra Valley… I felt nothing but joy. Our flora and fauna, I’m sure, can agree.
Let. It. Snow.
Grace + Godspeed,
Jonas
Beautifully and meaningfully expressed, Jonas!