first-snowfall

The Silence of Snow

There is a silence that accompanies snow falling.

It can provide a kind of peace and quiet that can quell anxiety.

There is also a cleanliness that comes with a snow storm. It silences the dirt on the street and sidewalks just as it mutes the mind. For just a brief moment the white noise in the head is replaced by a white silence.

I awoke this morning to a winter snow warning. It’s the second snowfall of the year and as I looked out the window I let out a heavy sigh because I knew, at least for a few hours, all the things that are weighing on me would be quieted for the duration of the storm. While still present, they seemed inconsequential. No, they hadn’t disappeared, I knew they’d just be silenced for a while.

A few moments of peace. And a few moments of quiet.

Snow is like natures Xanax.

And as I type this now, the city I live in is silent. Cars are off the road, the children have yet to come out and play and I suspect most people, like myself, are holed up in their homes waiting for the storm to pass.

They may be enjoying the peace or they may be dreading the aftermath of shoveling and digging out the car. No matter how they are spending the snow storm, there is no escaping natures fresh white blanket.

I feel no real sense of wonder with the science of snow, logically it makes sense to me and I’m no meteorologist. The sense of wonder comes from the silence and the peace. Where does that come from?

And is it just me?

I’ve a lot on my mind and to think that this accumulation of tiny white powder can somehow provide a little respite from all of that is the true wonder.

There is no telling what will happen after the snow stops falling. Well, that is not entirely true, there is certainty that the silence and peace of mind will be usurped by the noise of the plows, sanders and salt machines that will inevitably come. With that noise the anxiety and uncertainty will return and the once clean and at ease mind will end up as messy and unclean as the plowed streets.