I have a decorative slate with the words, “Let it Snow.” This somehow implies permission granted. But the reality is that in winter IT WILL SNOW. The song goes, “The weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful, and since we’ve no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow”. The operative words here are “Since we’ve no place to go”. One of the advantages of retirement is freedom from the imperative to go somewhere.
The French Impressionist, Claude Monet, known for his paintings of water lilies, also painted several snow scenes. My favorite is called “La Pie”. It is a picture of a single magpie perched on a gate in a wall, surrounded by snow. What is outstanding is the way the artist captured the light and shadows cast by the sun upon the freshly fallen snow.
I don’t need to travel to the Musee d’Orsay in Paris because right outside my window in Wevertown there’s a beautiful snowscape. I personally love the snow. I think it is beautiful. On overcast days it sticks to the needles of the fir trees, delineating their branches with white. When the sun shines on the snow it sparkles with golden flecks.
I love it all: The pristine snow that reminds me of icing on a cake; the impression my snow tires make in the driveway, the animal tracks that criss-cross the field. What would make the scene perfect, in my eyes, is to see a red fox silhouetted against the white landscape. I live in hope.