Each time I walked outside today I had initially to squint my eyes closed; so bright was the sun sparkling from every surface dusted with snow.
I loved it!
It reminded me of a similar snow last week, and that morning Linden and I were bustling around the house working to get two kids and ourselves fed, dressed and out the door, when Laurel, at just under 3 years old, walked past the clear porch door...and froze, saying, "Ooooo, it's gorgeous. It's gorgeous, Momma. Come and see..."
With an invitation like that, we all gathered around her, staring silently out at a yard blanketed in crystalline panko crumbs.
I felt similarly today, gazing at the soft blanket on every fir and maple, covering all the asphalt, turning lakes into soft fields, and clinging to my shoes in a fuzzy halo. The light was everywhere, even adhering itself to and adorning me as I entered out into it.
Jesus may have known snow, but if so I'm amazed he never used it in a parable. Because surely we here have a vision of the Kingdom of Heaven every time our blanket of light descends from the clouds, unifying every surface and brightening the eyes of every passenger through the landscape.