Snow Days

I'm currently on spring break and enjoying the sun, but I never had the time to write about Louisville's snow days, so here we go.

On an average day, I can hear cars driving down the main road, honking or screeching to a fast stop. On snow days, there's mostly silence. Only the occasional car drives by, and few people are outside. Those who are shovel snow, walk their dog, or make a snowman. Even the sounds you do hear are muffled, which is why any loud sound stands out.

When I was walking through the snow around noon during our second large snowfall, I heard church bells. They were beautiful, and they sort of vibrated in the air. I wish I could remember the hymn they played, but I do remember that it felt like what I always wanted early Christmas morning to be--quiet and reverent, but powerful and energizing. I paused and listened.

When I continued walking, I ran into a woman with her dog. We immediately started talking about the snow, which seemed to make us kindred spirits, and how magical it makes our neighborhood. We had ten inches of soft, glittery snow on the ground and small droplets of ice on the trees. Our two Louisville "snowstorms," we agreed, were gifts.

Of course, after walking for 30 minutes in the snow, I couldn't feel my hands, and I decided that I'm really okay with only having a few snow days per year. I coped by drinking several hot mugs of tea, wearing three layers of clothing, and snuggling under a blanket with my readings for classes. The snow days made me take life slower and appreciate the silence. I'm definitely looking forward to spring and summer, but I do hope I can remember those moments of silence and carry them with me through the louder seasons.

Best,

Haley