Like little Lucy Pevensie who stumbles through a wardrobe full of fur coats and into a magical land of drifting snow, so do I find myself inquisitive and excited whenever snowflakes begin to fall. As they cover my familiar yard and neighborhood with an unexpected blanket of pristine white, I too am swept away.
Come with me through the wardrobe and see the magic for yourself.
^ The view from my bedroom window across my back yard and down the hill toward the sound. I love the little snow-topped brick chimneys that step off into the distance, and the layers of fir trees that grow beyond and beyond.
^ The backyard from my back door. I love how the snow over the stepping stones melts away, leaving little resting places for my kitty cats when they boldly venture out in the white stuff.
^ In just a few months, my front yard flower garden wild be a wild mass of roses, peonies, lavender, and rhododendron. But today, it is blooming in icy petals of white, and that is lovely too.
^ When I was a little girl growing up in Michigan, I longed for snow that would extravagantly cling to trees and shrubs but our dry, windswept snow only drifted into powdery heaps along the ground. This damp and heavy Pacific Northwest snow that falls on me now fulfills all my childhood branch-decorating dreams.
^ On our walk, every tree we pass is loaded down with snow, each in its own particular way. All the branches droop closer to the ground, loaded down as they are with their heavy loads, and along the sidewalk, I stoop and sidestep my way between the sagging branches that are usually high overhead.
^ Gracie absolutely loves the snow. She seems to relish the refreshing frostiness of our outings, and as a highly visual hunter, she benefits of the contrast that snow provides between light and dark. Here, she carefully checks each and every rabbit hole, just in case any furry friend is making an appearance in the snow and up for a good chase.
^ Approaching another favorite hunting ground, she stops and stares, watching every quivering branch or trembling leaf, just in case it's an actual bunny. She is ever hopeful.
"I know you're in there, little rabbit. Come on out and let me chase you."
^ No rabbits are making any appearances on this snowy day, but Gracie is undeterred. Maybe, just maybe, there will be squirrels at the dumpster. A girl can dream.
^ And as we wind our way home, I look up to see more storm clouds gathering to the west, promising to unleash another flurry of snow upon us. Tomorrow, Gracie and I will step through the wardrobe once again and out into the snows of our very own Narnia. I wonder what adventures await us when we do.
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I have shared many, many stories about my adventures in the snow, but this one, written exactly eight years ago today, just might be my favorite.