Snow, snow

I have been humming that tune from the old Bing Crosby movie Holiday Inn all morning since I woke up to find that snow had finally blanketed our part of the land last night. It is is the best kind of snow--not icy, but soft and easily made into snowballs.

Living in West Texas, I rarely got to see snow and even here in Tennessee snow has been lacking in the last two winters. I am always glad to see its beautiful Robert Frost whiteness and to truly be able to see what "white as snow" really means. It is an opportunity to eat snow ice cream, watch the kids next door play, and to remember all the pictures I have seen of snow. Sam bought me one of Fort Phantom in the snow that I treasure. And he, as the artist he was, painted a snow scene which hangs in my bathroom along with another one handed down from his grandmother of an old farm house covered in snow. And who can forget that scene in the movie Dr. Zhivago of the snowy cottage of Zhivago and Lara? I love snow when I don't have to be go somewhere.

Thank you God for the beauty of snow. Who but you could have created it? Thank you too for your son whose blood "washed me whiter than snow."