I’ve had my head down since 6 a.m., after I brewed my hot green tea, prepared the 1½ graham crackers I allow myself each early morning, and settled into my writing table at our second story home office. An hour and a half later, seemed like minutes, I finally notice that my tea is cold, and I look up.
The sight of snow falling sends me reeling into a magical world of romance and fantasy; of princesses searching for their true love; of magicians shooting magic from their wands; of me, jumping outside to race in circles with my tongue out, catching snowflakes.
But that’s when reality jumps in.
I hate cold. I hate winter. Therefore, I really don’t find snow exciting or a happy state of existence.
I pull my red scarf closer around my neck, puff on my chilled fingers, push my back in and out in a yogic sitting-up cat-and-dog posture, and go back to my keyboard.
But wait. No. This isn’t right.
I stand up again and walk downstairs to the kitchen. Brew another cup of tea. Walk over to the window where the day is awake but gray with falling snow, bare black branches rimmed now with white icing, songbirds quiet in their deliberate attention to stoking up at our hanging birdfeeder.
And that’s when it happens.
Two sparrows, a cardinal, and a blue jay, normally not the best of friends, stop their bickering at the feeder and hop down on the frosty ground. They peer up at my face, which is peering at them through the window.
They hop closer. They open their beaks.
I understand every word of the verse.
They sing to the wonders of winter, the love of Mother Nature, the glory of beings who provide them tiny seeds in a storm.
They sing to the seasons of fruit and plenty, of ice and frost, of new growth and blossoms pinker than a baby’s tongue.
They fly closer to my window and smile with joy and gratefulness, and as much as I know this can’t be happening, – it CAN. NOT. BE. HAPPENING . . .
It does happen.
Because it’s 7:45 on a wintry snowy morning, where flakes fall as large as gifts, and my imagination sings along with my new winged friends.