Last night, we drive through an actual snow squall. Sudden, violent, zero-visibility, scary: you get the point. We arrive home safely to news of canceled church due to continuing snow and wind chills of -20. We stay in, snuggle up, and bake. I mention that it feels like we are living like the Ingalls family in The Long Winter, only it’s Centre County and not South Dakota. How did they survive?
It’s so cold. It’s so harsh.
But by mid-morning, we notice–once again–the brightness of a winter sun. Outside, we hear the wind against the garden gate that cracks and thuds against the house. Inside, we’re lit up with all kinds of warmth and all kinds of light.
This kind of bright makes the shadows of winter so beautiful in the backyard. Every tree’s limbs vein across the snow. It’s our kind of Long Winter, and we are doing just fine.