SnowMelt

It was so good to have our first snow in our new home. We only lost power for an hour or so, we had everything we needed, and we didn’t have to make any hard decisions about leaving home in order to get to work or go out for an emergency. It was beautiful, the white blanket that covered what we are only now beginning to recognize as home.

It was nice while it lasted, but now it is time for it all to melt. Our back yard is still a bit dangerous with the sheet of ice covering the blanket of snow — my husband nearly got his car stuck on his way to work this morning. The ice is still hanging out in the shaded parts of our road, threatening to send us sliding out off the road… not something I want to try with my baby in tow. And I want to see if we have any volunteer flowers that are waiting for the first hints of Spring… I’m ready for it, even though Spring is still two months away.

It’s odd, the way that the snow melts and water runs off from the mountains that would be puddles in summer. Water keeps coming from places that we normally see as dry. Its like with snow, the water took a pause. With rain, the deluge is immediate. The ground is immediately sodden, and then can work it’s way to the roots and trees. With snow, the water is kept in holding. Until the sun or warmer weather melts it, the water stored in the white blankets is kept in a holding pattern, waiting to see if it will gently water the earth, or erode down to the bedrock.

We wait for the snow to melt. We wait to see if anything changed under the weight of the icy blanket. Did something get pushed aside when the snow plow careened through the neighborhood? Did anyone skid into a new place, creating a path out of a green space? Did the trees get damaged by the ice, or are they stoically waiting for the thaw with the rest of us?

What is coming next? How much will the melted snow reveal? And when will these new things take their place?

KathyRandallBryant

Reflections on Faith, Motherhood, Feminism, and Bodies

Kathy Randall Bryant

Written by

adventurous reader, curious narrator, theological apprentice, united methodist pastor, inventive cook, unsatisfied writer, learning mother.

KathyRandallBryant

Reflections on Faith, Motherhood, Feminism, and Bodies

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