They’ve given it a name–the snowpocalypse. My eye spies maybe 15 inches on the ground here in central Jersey. A 45-minute drive south and you’ll see two feet. Which means some digging out for me.
The air, even with snow still falling, is still. No one is moving. Usually, you can hear then hum of cars off in the distance, but not on this Sunday morning.
As I was watching the fierce storm come down last night, an odd thought came to mind. I like snow, watching it change the landscape and quieting the noise and cacophony of humanity. I felt some sadness, knowing that the storm would wend its way up the coast and the snow would eventually end. I wanted it to keep going. Not because I think snow is pretty–it is. But because of how it changes the landscape–it’s almost like a sedative, a calming influence.