Snow Angel....

Snow Angel 

When I moved out of my marital home and into my own apartment five years ago, it was November.  I drove a Volkswagon Beetle.  My ex kept the brand new Ford F250 with heated leather seats with a 8' plow, and a $550 monthly payment.  That year, we got the most snow I had seen since the seventies.  It seemed like every morning, I would wake up to another foot of snow.  Trudging through the snow with shovel in tow, while Destiny bounded through the snowbanks, I would dig out my car again and again.  Thank goodness my landlord has six kids, because it took at least four of them to push me out of the driveway each day, so I could make the treacherous slide to work in my poorly equipped car that was meant to be a summer vehicle. 

Destiny - My Snow Angel

Up until then, snow meant the world stopping for the day.  My ex-husband and I worked for a lawn care company - our only downtime was in the winter.  At the sight of first flakes, we would be outside - shoveling the walkways together, throwing snowballs at the dog, and when we were done, falling into the snowbanks to make snow angels while Destiny danced around us nipping at our mittens.  We had all the toys - snowmobiles, skiis, and snowshoes.  A snowy Friday night meant home-made pizza, and a bunch of friends gathering to go out for a "mid-night ski" where we would ski in the moonlight - moonlight so bright there was no need for flashlights.  My fondest memories were of Destiny hooked up with her harness, purposefully pulling me as we silently swooshed through the darkness, through the pine trees that looked like cupcakes thickly frosted with icing.

During that first winter on my own, the winter nights seemed darker.  Each snowflake weighed on me like a stone.  No one came around to eat pizza or go for a midnight ski, and I wasn't able to get out and meet up with people because my really cute, but really dumb car wouldn't get me anywhere but stuck in a snowbank.  Nope, instead I was alone, shoveling my walkway - alone.  Mid-shovel I looked up and saw my ridiculous dog Destiny on her back, wriggling and rolling, joyfully making her version of doggie snow angels.  I felt like my days of fun in the snow were long gone.  Destiny can make the snow angels alone - I have a car to dig out.

 I know that we humans are like rest of the natural world and that sadness, fear, frustration, or any troubling feeling cannot last. Nature doesn’t create a storm that never ends. Within misfortune, good fortune hides. ~ Dr Wayne Dyer

Spring came, the snow melted away... and life went on.  Destiny passed away the following winter... and I regretted not putting down my shovel, getting out of my own sorrows for a while, to flop down in the snow to make snow angels with her the winter before.  Each flake that fell was a reminder of the love and joy she had for snow.  Nipping at mittens, barking as we shoveled... rolling on her back in pure bliss.  I smiled as the snow fell, remembering my Snow Angel.  That winter, MyHoney, Derby and I got out to play in the snow every chance we had. I bravely battled winter driving in my trusty Subaru.  Moments, joyful moments can melt away .... and with the melting snow, a new season begins. 

Lexi

In the last four days, we have had two winter storms that brought in over 18" of snow.  I woke up this morning to see another 4" on the ground.  I opened the door to investigate and Lexi bounded out, leaping through the new powder like a white snowshoe rabbit.  Up until this morning, I thought my little diva wasn't fond of snow... she seemed more of a couch potato than a snow bunny.... but this morning, she bounced and jumped, leaped and frolicked, and then flopped onto her back, feet to the sky and rolled joyously....  and there it was - Lexi's first snow angel.  Hold on Lexi - Let me grab my snow suit - I'm comin' out to join you!

Paradise is here, Paradise is now.... Paradise is making snow angels.