I was awakened this morning by the rhythmic sounds of scraping and shoveling. (Bless you, kind stranger, whomever and wherever you are).
I wasn't sure of the time, although I felt I'd had a sufficient night's sleep.
Due to the snow, night was a little brighter than usual.
I sat up and raised the blinds, not sure of what I would see.
Last February, when I'd raised the blinds, I'm not sure how long I stared at the mountains of snow.
This time, there was no shock and awe.
It hadn't snowed as much as the weather reports led us all to expect. Maybe two inches.
The street was clean.
It, and the sidewalk was icy, though, I suppose. People were walking cautiously, and the shoveling fairy was definitely making sure he was hitting pavement.
I didn't mind the intermittent noise.
When someone takes a not-so-pleasant task off of your hands, what's a little noise?
Two plastic bags seemed to be fighting to get loose from the tree limbs that caught them, as the wind blew them upward. (Plastic bags make lousy tree ornaments).
Still, I could appreciate the beauty of the blanket of snow on the ground, and watched for a while as a squirrel created a little dusting of its own, as it scampered along tree branches.
Aside from the sounds of the shovel, it was wonderfully quiet.
There was an orange hue resting, it seemed, in one place outside, creating a colorful and dramatic scene. I felt around the bed for my cell phone, and decided to get up.
The sunrise was spectacular.
Everything looked so crisp, clean and bright.
I thought to myself, "Wow. Great work, God."
Yes, DC got just enough snow for one to go outside, make a snow angel, and get up with grass stains (No. I didn't do it. I'm just sayin'.)
It's cold and windy.
The Sun and the snow put on quite a show this morning, and I'm grateful to be able to admire it all--- from inside.
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