How many people have complained about the weather, lately? We really are never satisfied. It wouldn’t matter if winter and cold weather only lasted a few days. Someone would still say “I am so done with this weather.” We are the same way in the heat of summer. Or in the midst of a rain season. We are so done. But it’s not the weather, it’s being uncomfortable.

We want to be comfortable.

I must admit, I do like snow.  Sure, I get fed up with messy roads and dirty cars and slushy muck, too. I don’t relish cold weather or having to wade out into the yard if the dog doesn’t cooperate. But I like snow.

Sunday morning started out just like most Sundays. We scrambled around at a pretty good clip, even though things were fairly organized. We had enjoyed a leisurely breakfast. I knew everyone needed to be at church a little early and I was already in launch prep, knowing we had less than 45 minutes to be loaded in the car and out the door.

But then it began to snow.  Our house is situated so that one can sit in the kitchen and look out the side and back windows into the wooded area behind our house, and it was only a short time before everything was covered. And the snow continued to fall.

Something funny seems to happen when it’s snowing. It seems like things slow down, even if they really don’t. I sat in the kitchen and just continued to sit. The noises of girls getting into their church clothes and boys racing up the stairs and hair being curled were muffled.  Everything was in “snow motion.”

When I “came to,” I realized that quite a bit of time had passed. I hopped up and urged people to get outside in the next few minutes, load in the car. We left the house in plenty of time.

Once again, we were in “snow motion.” You can’t drive fast in near white-out conditions. We took it slow. We unloaded at church and slowly made our way inside. By the time coats were hung up and visitors were greeted and shown their seats, we were a few minutes late. Shoot.

After realizing that things were OK and it wasn’t necessary to be in a snit, I started thinking again how pretty the snow was. How quiet. How it almost seemed as though the snow shielded us from mundane issues and maybe renewed us. Perhaps I’m being too deep and dramatic. But some of you get what I mean.

I remember being in junior college, taking a pretty difficult anatomy exam one evening. When we got out of class, we realized a quick snowfall had dumped a few inches of snow on the parking lot and roads. I was relieved to have the exam over with, and along with my other relieved classmates, ventured out into the new snow.  There hadn’t been time to shovel or sweep. Everything was covered. Everything was quiet.  It was as if sound was turned off. Even as we started our motors, urging one another to be safe on the roads, our voices and motors seemed muffled and soft.

The ride home was like a sleigh ride of sorts. I don’t think I’ve ever driven on a highway covered with several inches of snow, but I did that night. No snow plow had been along yet.   It was actually a pleasant, slow ride home. Anatomy test over.  Snow protecting us from any harm. Snow motion.

Today was similar. The blanket of snow calmed things. Instead of scrambling around after church, taking care of day-to-day things, we sat and savored the scenery. Three young deer ran through the back yard.  We built a cozy fire. We finished up the breakfast cinnamon rolls for dessert.

Yes, snow motion.