First Snow

This morning he had our first snow of the season, a small, blustery storm of buoyant flakes swirling among the trees and around the yard. Sitting, and sometimes rocking, in our comfortable chairs in the sunroom, we had fun just following the flakes as they whirled around in the wind. We both said we felt so fortunate to be safe and cozy in a comfortable home, a feeling, we both realize, is not felt by untold numbers of people around the world. This small storm was fun for us to see, but it was also a useful reminder of our profound good fortune.

Here’s the scene we saw from the sunroom:

This early storm brought to mind another short piece I wrote a number of years ago …

On any given day, my thoughts are usually as gossamer and scattered as the dusting of snow across Mystic some winter mornings, and that’s exactly what I love most about them. I feel fortunate that my thoughts are as insubstantial as the snowflakes that floated down on us last night. Even worrisome thoughts seem to easily scatter through my mind, and, if I let them, just as easily disappear, as will this wispy sheet of snow by the afternoon. When I step back and simply observe them, I see that my thoughts are actually flimsy specks that fling themselves around in fairly disorderly ways. It’s like they’re having fun, these sometimes bothersome but always free-spirited thoughts that dance around inside me, and I often have fun observing them in their escapades. Like snowflakes, even the most fearful thoughts sooner or later settle to a stop — sometimes on a computer screen in curious rows called sentences.

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