Snow

"His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead."
- James Joyce, The Dead

For the past few days, we've been snowed in here at the Jackson House. Amazingly, we really haven't gotten on each other's nerves; we're all definitely itching to get back to work, though. On Monday, after a morning of reading and putting puzzles together, a few of us felt restless enough to go out for some fresh air. So, Jordan, Megan, Judy, and I hiked up the hill behind our house.

It was very cold, but we warmed up once we started moving. The snow fell in big, soft flakes, and it piled up on the branches overhead. It felt like the world was whispering, and that we should have done the same. After a little while, we came to a huge rock formation. When the weather's nice, one can scramble on top of it to find a ladder and ropes left there to help the hiker get to the other side. Since it was covered in snow, though, we took the long way around.

Enormous icicles, some more than twice my height, hung from the ledge overhead. We found a spot where the ledge stretched over a grouping of large rocks, and we decided to sit for a while to take in the scene before us.

It was ethereal. From underneath the ledge, it looked like we were in the mouth of a great benign beast with long, sharp teeth. We fell into a comfortable silence, and I listened. I heard the roar of the wind coming from behind the rock, and the sound of it rushing overhead. The trees dipped and swayed with the wind, dancing to a song I'd never heard, but that I knew. The snow floated down gracefully to the same hymn, and the melting ice behind us beat a delicate percussion. It felt like time was suspended, and for a brief moment, we were all allowed to be made aware of the universe's song. And we were allowed to be a part of it.

What a beautiful miracle this life is.