First Snow in Shetland

Dear Reader,

Winter has arrived here in Shetland, with colder weather and – snow! A few days ago, I came downstairs in the early morning, went to a sitting room window, parted the curtains and looked out on a world of white. Granted, it was barely more than a dusting (we have gotten more snow since,) but it was enough to impart that magical, velvet-white feeling of newness.

As I looked out, I was awestruck at the silent peace that had descended on our town in the night. Isn’t it delightful, the fresh feeling we can get from the very first snowfall of the season? And doesn’t it seem like a miracle, that our whole world can be so completely changed in such a strikingly visual way by Nature?

I felt the same sense of wonderment that I felt as a child – as far back as I can remember, really – looking out the window in our house in Maine at the first snow of winter draping the tall trees around our house. Later snows would be beautiful as well, but somehow none had the same effect as the way that first snow opened my heart and made my breath catch in my throat.

“It’s here; winter is here.”

Such a feeling of rightness, that the seasons are turning as they should. Now, as an adult, the surprise has a comforting, familiar feel that comes with fifty-two winters. I am so grateful to still be able to experience this glorious newness, even as I am connected to my childhood.

You know what it is? It’s as if the snow is a visible, tangible expression of the profound shifts in perspective that can hit us in a moment. Habitual ways of seeing have no choice but to fall away, even if only for a few seconds after the sitting room curtains are parted.

We all need those moments. In one breath, the whole world looks different.

Peace to you, dear reader, wherever you are and whatever revelations await you when the curtains are parted.

I honor your loving heart,

John