The sky holds the promise of snow today ~
A pink light at dawn, leading to a thickening of cloud-covers overhead. The growing sunshine, which graces us in January, and began this day, ebbs into a deepening. A rising wind will soon call forth the water gathered in these clouds. The very ones that suggest a great snow fall is a-coming.
This possibility, this promise excites me. When the snow falls, I sense a presence, one I can glimpse with the contrast in light and dark, like when the trees hold a background tableau, or the frosty tree tips glow, or the snow lands, covering large swaths of land, transforming what was yesterday, into something new.
Like emissaries, the snow arrives with import, individual expression, and in various languages. Some snows blow sideways, on a wind blown free from the ocean, miles away. Others spiral in intricate patterns in response to eclectic celestial music. And Always the lightness of the snow contrasts the darkness of the treetrunks and branches. All these snowfalls contain a palpable conversation, offered in their unique language. Saying, convening meanings and feelings on their path to landing. Ones that I hope to receive.
I love to watch how the water, air, trees and sun will interact in this felt presence. How they create a conversation like no other, like one between friends. I feel riveted to listening to and witnessing this music and dance, as if all this might teach me something about this thing called being alive, this moment of life,
about me, about you.
I seek to touch this consciousness.
As spirals of white descend in deepening spirals, tree roots, trunks and limbs reach upward in an ascending patterns unique to themselves ~
A continuous flowing stream of conversation and movement.
Myriad threads of moonlight and earthlight interweave in descending and ascending patterns
building a deepening sense of wonder and miracles,
Building a dance of opposites,
creating something new, something ne'er seen before.
The unnameable mixing with and into solid form
I started this post with the desire to find words to "capture" the essences of snow. I hoped I would find a name to give to the snow, that I could be as literate as the Inuit who knew the names of their relations that came in the winter falls.
By the end of this post,
I have surrendered to, come to acceptance of not knowing.
I have found my emptying out of my names and categories, of words and structure, of definable. I understand, in doing so, I have come closer to conveying the sense of the unknowable. I find in this surrender a greater felt sense of the beauty and vastness within the ephemeral, and eternal.
Indeed, within me exists a desire to Understand. To Define, to Describe.
And within me there is also the wise knowing to release all those efforts and witness with compassion to the unfolding. The wise knowing mixes with the mind, just as the earthlights and moonlights mix on the breath of snow, a knowing and unknowing, a spiraling dance
Lovely and ever-changing.
Sun will break through the clouds after this snow,
illuminating with impossible brightness.
"We lose when we try to control;
we gain divinity when we surrender." Laurie Herron