I awoke around midnight one evening in December, crept out of bed, and peeked out the loft window facing the street. All was quiet. No cars passed, no breeze rustled the trees. The pavement below glowed faintly under the street lamp.
Again, around two, the same tiptoe trip to the window. Same view; same stillness.
No, I was not watching for Santa. I was watching for snow.
The last snowfall this Floridian witnessed was thirty-eight years ago. So during a rare Christmas visit to Ohio, when snow was forecast during the early hours of one morning, I didn’t want to miss it.
The third time I awoke, around three o’clock, my trip to the window was rewarded. In the dim light, I could make out large flakes falling fast and straight.
As much as I anticipated its arrival, now I looked forward to the accumulation that had been forecasted: at least several inches.
Sure enough, the pale light of morning revealed a world transformed. Each tree branch, even every twig, appeared iced in white frosting.
And yet more snow was falling. Now the flakes were lighter and smaller, drifting gently and softly to the ground.
Donning my coat, I slipped out to the front porch, and extended my arm. Soon I had a lovely collection of tiny star-shaped flakes on my sleeve. Delicate displays of lacy symmetry. Each one a magical wonder.
The next day, under a crystalline blue sky, we rode through a nearby cemetery where the snow created an even more stunning display. Hillsides, ancient trees, and tangles of bushes were majestically trimmed in sparkling white. Frozen ponds glistened subtly, like great pearls. By contrast, the streams twinkled, as if crystals had been laid out on rippling, steel-gray silk. I oohed and aahed at every turn.
Those of you who experience snow every winter may not be so enthusiastic. There’s a dark side to the white stuff! Bundling up in extra clothing for outdoors, then shedding the layers for indoors. Slow, snarled traffic. Shoveling. Scraping off the car.
But, oh, the beauty! The splendor!
“He spreads the snow like wool and scatters the frost like ashes” (Psalm 147:16)
* * * * * * * * * *
Thank you, O God, for the glorious wonders of your winter creation. I marvel that you design each tiny snowflake unique from all others. How mind-boggling to consider the millions of flakes required to cover just one tree, much less a forest or a whole region. And I marvel at your artistry with just one color—white!
How great and glorious you are, the almighty Creator and Sustainer of the universe! How awe-inspiring to know you are also our loving Heavenly Father. And that same awesome power that paints winter-white landscapes is at work in our lives, creating the beauty of holiness. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
From the Inside Out 
Glad you enjoyed the winter wonderland! Blessings.
Thank you, Russell. A winter wonderland enjoyed with family–that IS a great blessing!
Sounds wonderful! I can so relate to the midnight checks. We don’t get snow very often here on the coast, so when it is forecast I am always at the window checking…just in case. It rarely sticks here, so if you miss it coming down, you miss it entirely!
Then you understand my excitement! Honestly, I felt like a child, the level of anticipation was so high as I went to bed that evening. Thank you for your affirmation, Rebeca!
Spectacular pictures, Nancy. I am not a fan of snow (good thing I’m a southern Californian, right?) but these pix could almost make me one!
Thank you, Diana. ‘Wish I could claim to be the photographer! What I can do is be an enthusiastic admirerer of those who can frame perfect shots.
Here where we live, the ground usually covers sometime in November and some years we don’t see the grass again until the end of March. I don’t ever get tired of watching it snow in the early morning hours … What a blessing, we get to experience the marvelous, wondrous works of our Creator. Thanks so much for this cool reminder 🙂
You are welcome, Heidi. I remember such winters as you describe, during my growing-up years in the Chicago area. The seasons have distinct characteristics in the Midwest, that’s for sure. Thank you for being such a faithful follower!
The only states I’ve ever lived in are Ohio (born and raised) and Indiana (Taylor and my Mom’s family). I never have tired of the snow… It is so beautiful and your description was breathtaking. Sitting inside watching the snow falling is a balm to my soul. I love January!
You’re right–watching the snow falling is a balm to the soul. Between the graceful descent of the flakes and the quiet, a gentle snowfall does indeed foster peace. I’m delighted you enjoyed the description!
Wonder if there will be snow in eternity? Never wondered that before…
Oh, I hope so! I’m sure God could work out the logistics so we can enjoy all the beauty without the shoveling or slush!
A beautiful description of snow. I never thought to look at it in a special way as you described. However, I am glad to be in balmy Florida. We get rain instead of snow, I always look at the rain to clear my spirit. Thanks again for your writings, they are inspiring.
Thank you, Laura. I like your imagery of rain clearing the spirit! May the Holy Spirit remind me of that the next time it rains.
The fresh smell of rain…awesome.
Thank you, Nancy. You made me feel as though I was there with you reliving the excitement of experiencing snow when we lived in Pennsylvania. Just as God makes each snowflake unique, we are reminded that we, as individuals, are also His unique creations……no two alike.
Oh, yes! And when you think of the millions and millions of people who have lived before us, much less the billions that inhabit Planet Earth now, your statement is all the more mind-boggling! “His greatness no one can fathom” (Psalm 145:3b)! Thank you for stopping by and taking the time to comment, Ruth.
Can you tell I am behind in reading some of my favorite bloggers, you for example. I really needed to read this beauty tonight. Since I am living in cold snowy Ohio I long for no snow yet God is using this winter for lessons too. I will be posting on this on Tuesday this week. Reading your words refreshed me tonight.
Warms my heart to know that a post on snow refreshed your spirit, Jean! Looking forward to reading about your winter lessons!