Sitting alone, in the corner of a busy café overlooking the street, she looked up at the obscure sky. With each passing hour the temperature seemed to fall a degree lower, as the icy winds mercilessly whipped across each passer-by’s face causing them to huddle and dig their hands even deeper into their pockets, their faces red and blistered.Her breath had fogged up the glass and she moved her face away, slowly drawing patterns on it with her finger.
As I walked along the pavement, I felt something wet and soft brush my nose as it fell to the ground and melted away. I looked up puzzled, wondering whether it had started to rain as it often did in my part of the world, suddenly and unexpectedly just when you thought the weather was stable for once. But it wasn’t the rain and just as I realized this, I couldn’t help but exclaim and smile to myself as another big white flake lightly touched my nose and melted away into oblivion. As I looked on, more and more started to fall around me in a never-ending terrain, slowing settling down on the ground creating layer upon layer of white elegance. It was snowing!
The sky, in all its glory, a huge expanse of never-ending white, looked staggeringly beautiful. The heavens which blanket the earth opened up as each flake gathered speed and settled upon the earth light as a feather forming a flawless white shimmering sheet.
A sight so beautiful to witness, covering everything within sight in a layer of silvery softness. I stood rooted to the spot, my arms stretched out as the little snow crystals began to cover my coat and hood, camouflaging me in their grace.
The beauty around me was so breath-taking I couldn’t help but think of the artist behind such a miracle. The human, an insignificant being could all but gape at the sight and appreciate Him.
Within half an hour everything around me was a stark white, glowing a yellow, gentle glow as the street lights came on and reflected off its surface. It was sight to behold, one that makes you stand in awe of God’s miracles and realise your own mere significance as a lowly venerable creature.
I have always loved the snow. Having lived a major part of my life in a hot country and feeling the wrath of that baking hot sun shining down upon you is unbearable at times; winters hold a very special place in my heart. I’m even happy to tolerate the extremely cold feet with chilblains and a permanently red nose.
As per usual, the first snowfall of the winter had us all out in our woollen hats, gloves and boots ready to build a snow man and of course have that all important snow fight- more of a war in my house hold.
This year, a twenty year old me decided to do something slightly more grown up. We all joined in the quest to build an upside down snow man.
Turned out to be quite a failure, so we rescued it and made snowman number two which luckily turned out to be slightly more ‘normal looking’ despite having a nose like Pinocchio!!
The ground is silver from the residue of left over early morning frost. The skies are an expanse of dusky grey with hints of white, depicting an aura of misery and gloom. People walk about hurriedly, bundled up in multiple layers of clothing, yet chilled to the bone. The unmistakable feeling of dread hangs in the air, like a heavy stench of rotting carcasses; intolerable, yet inescapable.
From my perch at the window sill, I look out at the world. My feet numb from the cold, my nose a bright red. I get up off my seat to warm up a little.
The world is an austere picture of bleakness. Every colour seems to have evaporated along with the cold icy wind, leaving behind forlorn faces clouded with desolation.
Appreciation is found in the smell of freshly brewed coffee, the warmth of a crowded café and the crackling of the fire. I find a reason to be grateful. Looking up, meeting the eyes of a beautiful stranger and returning his smile, I’m filled with a sense of contentment and warmth, and gratitude far beyond my comprehension.
I close my eyes and lift my head heavenward, feeling the cold wind prickle and sting my face leaving it red and sore with cold. My feet have long since become numb, swollen and heavy despite the presence of three pairs of socks and the thick lining of my boots. Nothing is able to fend off the cold.
I huddle in my jacket, my hands buried deep within my pockets, seeking little comfort from the storm raging around me. Cold rain beats down hard, blown around with the might of the wind. It blows with a bone chilling ferocity, beating down upon me as though in a fit of rage. Standing still in one position is no longer a plausible option, for the wind shakes me to the very core.
The sky, once a beautiful blanket of fluffy blue clouds which surrounded a golden glowing ball of warmth has now been replaced by a bleak sheet of never-ending white and grey. The golden ball of light has long since disappeared from sight, carefully concealed behind the ferocious black clouds.
A feeling of gloom and dread has descended upon the earth. Glum faces with deep-set lifeless eyes pierce mine. People everywhere keep their heads bowed down against the cold, briskly walking trying to shake off the cold, barely acknowledging one another with a nod of their head. Despair, dejection and depression are spread around like an evil mist; a thick dense fog encompassing us all.
I take it all in, unnerved by the misery surrounding me, for I welcome winter. The season has an odd peace about it, when solace is sought in the warmth of other humans huddling together as one, seeking comfort in each other’s company behind closed doors, yet at the very same time keeping away from all forms of activity outside as though afraid of what it might bring.
Away from the lashing wind, and wet sidewalks, surrounded by a multitude of blankets and cushions with a steaming hot mug of coffee in hand, contentment finally settles in. Watching the storm then, is a pleasure.