Conversation With Snow

I know that you are coming. The air is thick with the promise of your arrival. Everybody is talking about you. Everybody! Just thinking about you makes me run for cover. It is the agony of what I know. You cannot be beat by me. I have plenty of tools to maneuver around you. I can work it out, really. Yet instead, like branches and brambles, I stand locked and feel the chill of your approach.

You are actually not a bad guest at all. You really never stay that long and when you do, we all figure out a way around you. However, you are very indefinable as to your exact dimensions. You have the power to make everyone stop in awe of you. Schedules change, and while that causes disappointments, there are those that welcome and enjoy you. I am afraid I am not on that committee. I am made perfectly aware that my time with you always means stopping. I have to let you in. There is no question about it. I am running low on things that I need at the store but given the news and heavy anticipation of your impending visit, I am not racing to replace them and just make do with what I have. You might just as well arrive and do your thing. You’re mounting and I am stopping.

I am willing to admit that there is a certain beauty to you. You do make things sit still, just as sure as you make them move; but always reconfiguring to your pace. We acquiesce and say, “No sir, after you.” Children are in their glory; “No school, let’s play!” Bundles of your groupies run out to celebrate your arrival. It is tradition. In your honor, great tall, bold men transcend and children scheme about to give these men a look of distinction and character. Your arrival gives the children a mission to celebrate and gather. I suppose I can understand that. It is then that glee is present among us.

There is also your sense of style. You enhance in all of your makings. You dance well too. You may cause mayhem and madness, but you can also land very kindly at times, just so that when I look at you, I see that you mean peace.

So, why all the drama and why not just accept you? After all, I am warm and I have an array of things to wear for your occasion. I have plenty to read and do since I and all around me will be hosting your visitation. The burden itself is shared but we all consider it independently. After heavy deliberation, I have come up with a new plan; I am secretly overjoyed by the idea of stopping. I may just like you…this time.

Caroline Waldron Augenblick, December, 2003