The wind whipped, snow swirled.
A real snow storm.
We stoked the outdoor fires and turned on the indoor soapstone.
So grateful for home during a storm.
Soup simmered on the stove.
Banana bread baked.
Anything to try to keep this old farmhouse warm.
I sat in the dark and quiet.
I listened to the sounds of the winter storm.
The rattling windows, the wind in the trees, the plow making its rounds.
The cows will stay in tonight and my farmer will wake in the night to check on everyone.
He’ll make sure the fires are hot and then, only then will he crawl back into bed for a few more hours of sleep.
The winter storm will leave all things white.
Will the kids have school?
Wind continues to swirl and batter the side of the Farmhouse.
I peer out the frosted window.
I peel back the blanket covering the frigid panes.
Visibility is poor.
I’m grateful for shelter.
I turn on the music and light a few candles.
The shadows cast a welcoming warmth on this blustery night.
Will the weight of the falling snow cause a power outage?
I think on this as I fill a jug of water.
I mentally take note of battery supplies and flashlights.
It’s been a mild winter so far and these resources are not as stocked as they usually are.
I head back to the kitchen and look out the window.
There’s no sign of the mountain.
There’s no sign of anything.
A white out.
A beautiful moment.
The glow of the porch lights on the drifting, dancing flakes mesmerize me.
I hold this moment sacred.
I am grateful.
As the snow swirls, so do so many things in my life.
But I’m clinging to the one who is anchored.
I will give thanks for this moment and all the countless other moments that will come after.