I’ve seen movies where people fall asleep only to awaken in a world that is radically different from the one they remember.  I had that kind of feeling this morning.  Yesterday, the landscape out my window was soggy, drab and tired looking.  Today, it was anything but.  It looked as though an artist had worked with reckless abandon through the night to cover everything in great gobs of white to hide its weariness.


The ground was covered in a thick blanket of snow and the tree limbs were laden excessively with the stuff.  Not only did things look differently, they sounded differently.  The power was out and the usual hum of electronics and the furnace was absent as was the normal drone of distant traffic.  It sounded like all the world was doing what I was doing:  gaping out the window in wonder and doing it ever so silently.

D was the first to venture out into the magic of the morning


and the first to capitalize on it (to the tune of “If we shovel the driveway, will you pay us?”).


I said, “Yes.” to that.

After church (we are Canadian so we don’t let a little snow hold us back), the boys got busy building a “turret”.  (From past experience, I suspect it will end up being a curved wall to lob snowballs from.)


Me?  I went for a walk and snapped pictures of the snow.


It was starting to melt by the time I got to picture taking and the silence factor had definitely been broken but it was still magical.