I know that as a Northern girl living in southern Virginia, I feel out of place at times. Winter doesn’t really feel like winter here.
It’s gray and brown and dull. It rains and mud proliferates everywhere. It’s rather depressing. I was reminded just how much I miss my northern winters this morning.
I awoke with the sun shining in my windows, and as I opened my eyes to it I knew without a doubt that there was snow on the ground. I didn’t need to look out the window. I didn’t need to slip on my glasses.
I could tell simply by the quality of light this morning that the sun’s rays were bouncing off the white crystals in the yard and producing an almost magical bright light for the world.
So when I tell my southern friends that I miss the snow, it isn’t just the skiing or the crunch under my feet. It isn’t just the beauty of a wood covered with a fresh blanket of white — unsoiled by human touch. It is the very sun itself and the way it shines through my windows on a chilly winter’s morn.