On Snow
Snow exceeds all other weather in my estimation1. It comes with no expectations or undertakings; it asks nothing, expects nothing. Whether in close unbreathable blizzard on a hillside at the height of the day, or deep in the woods at night, you can live; you can die; it cares not2. There is nothing but the soft silent fall and the pure unspoken ringing of bells across an unseelie landscape3.
15 Sept 2024
Notes:
1 It is where I feel most at home, most myself, stripped of all that is extraneous. It is the zazen of weather conditions.
2 I literally have a doctorate in snow and ice, so I suppose I should know.
3 As I age, the only allowance I give to the process is counting, with sorrow, the likely winter snowfalls I have left.