She
stood at the window and watched the snow falling outside. It was
pleasant, leaning against the window frame and watching the flakes
fall gently to the ground, some of them getting caught on the
branches of the trees and making light blankets along their backs.
The snow had been falling steadily for several hours, and would be
for many hours more. It was supposed to be a blizzard. She had never
seen a blizzard before, she thought with interest as she watched the
snow fall. But she liked new things. She could tell her children
about it someday.
A
flash of red in one of the trees. A cardinal. She had seen that
cardinal before. He settled on a branch and preened himself,
obviously aware of his striking color against the backdrop of the
snow. He made a pretty picture. Another flash of rusty red on the
ground. It was the fox that lived in the woods behind the house. He
was a handsome fox, and sometimes came close to the house to show off
his fine coat. Two drops of red in the endless white.
She
stood for a while longer watching the snow fall and the cardinal in
the tree and the fox on the ground, then she moved away from the
widow. She put on her boots and her long black coat, and her red hat
with the flower on the brim. She opened the door and stepped out into
the falling snow. It was falling faster now. It came down lightly on
her shoulders and the crown of her red hat, and dusted her black
coat.
She
moved across the yard, looking up into the bare branches of the trees
and the fast-falling snowflakes. The air was cold, and smelled of
snow and wood smoke. One of the best smells in the world, she
thought. She breathed it deeply and it went tingling through her, and
she felt incredibly alive.
She passed behind the shed and into the woods. It was a young wood, and the branches of the tall, thin trees made a lacy pattern against the gray sky. She stopped to look at a tree whose trunk was covered in green ivy, and at a young evergreen tree whose dainty needles wore hats of snow. The air was still. Her footsteps were muffled in the fresh snow as she wound her way through the trees. She was in Narnia, she thought, and half expected the fox to come out and start talking to her, or hear the jingle of the witch's sleigh bells in the distance. She knew Lucy's delight at coming out of the wardrobe into an enchanting snow-clad world. The world is a far lovelier place in the snow, she thought as she ducked under an overhanging branch. All its troubles, all the pettiness and selfishness of mankind vanish under a white blanket for a short time.
She stopped when she came to the stream that cut through the woods. She stood on the bank, warm from her walk through the woods and looked around her. She watched the icy cold water flowing slowly down the stream bed, watched the snowflakes as they touched the water and disappeared. The water stood crisply black against the whiteness of the world. She stood on the bank and looked for a long while, savoring the quietness and the crispness of the air until her feet started to get cold.
She turned away from the water and made her way back, following her footsteps in the snow. In a few hours those footprints would be buried under a few more inches of snow. No one would ever know she had been there. Only herself.
She
went back around the shed and across the yard. She stopped at her
door and stamped the snow off her boots and shook the snow from her
black coat and red hat. She looked at the sky again. There was no
telling what time of day it was; the sky was the same pale gray as it
had been before, all day long. She opened the door and went in to her
warm house. She took off her hat and her coat and hung them to dry,
and took off her boots and stuffed her cold feet into slippers. Her
face was glowing sharply from the cold and tingled a little as it
began to warm again.
She
went back and stood by the window. Outside the snow continued to fall
and the earth began to sleep under a thick blanket of white.
