Early this morning, the children race around the house to announce the news: Snow! Just flurries, but still the excitement mounts as the sun rises on our town.
I grab my camera and go outside on this blustery morning. I’m in thin pajamas–no hat, no gloves, not even my coat–and it’s amazing how I don’t notice the cold.
|First Snow on a Berry|
It’s because I see something so magnificent it diminishes me for once. I’m not even aware of my own frozen fingers.
|Snowflake on Concrete|
Is it true that each one is different? And why does this design delight?
|Snowflake on a Stone|
Close up, I see something so wonderful, so miniature in its grandeur.
|Snowflake on a Log|
The beauty of these tiny designs keeps me outside too long. But I don’t notice what comes against me; I don’t notice myself at all. That’s what beauty–real beauty–does to a soul.
You get caught up in the awe of it, and even in the cold gray of a winter morning, you are set free from yourself.