:still:

When I look outside, at the falling snow, and the stillness of the white blanket that covers our landscape and the branches of the trees drooping lower and lower with the weight of ice and thick snow, I can't help but feel so small on this big, giant planet. This big snow event is but a tiny blip in the existence of earth and yet it has paralyzed our region. It is a hindrance, a danger. We complain about it, we worry about it. But, the weather is nothing, in a long line, of things we cannot control.

I feel small because I think about it snowing back before the hustle and bustle of the city, the people rushing to work. Back to when, maybe, this type of weather wasn't such a horrible thing, but rather a sign of the season. This is, after all, what happens in the dead of winter; it snows.

Instead of wanting to go, go, go and wanting the snow to pass, I am trying to be still myself. To look outside and realize Mother Nature is in charge of this, and follow in the peacefulness of drifting snow and buried garden beds. For, I know this is going pass and I want to know that I appreciated these moments of stillness.