I’ve been watching the weather with green eyes today because I’m finding myself very envious of the New England blizzard. (We lived there for seven years. And I don’t even mind the shoveling—I think of it as weather-induced exercise.) I know I should be thankful that we won’t have the power outages or the damage. And I am.
But I miss the pristine beauty of freshly fallen snow. I love the absolute silence of standing outside in a snow storm and not hearing a single sound. And when the snow turns to blizzard, I love the sense of other-worldliness as the drifts obliterate all that is familiar.