Turn on the Light

It snowed again last night. No surprise, in this winter with snowfall after snowfall. But still, when it is coming down, it is beautiful.

White Ash in Sunlight

I brought the dog out for his last hurrah of the evening, and he trotted into the fluffy, clean white stuff. His paws left tracks in a circle around my car, then over the little mountain at the end of the driveway created from shoveling the last heavy, wet snowfall.  I watched from the porch, wrapped in a blanket, feeling the heavy wetness of the flakes as they settled on my hair. I looked out to my beautiful, old white ash tree lit only by the ambient light from the reflection of the town's lights on the low clouds. A bright night, wet and cold. Then Sport turned and walked toward the back yard, setting off the motion sensor and turning on the light. Suddenly the scene changed. My vision was filled with sparkling dashes of precipitation. Grayness was gone, light reigned. Dashes of light falling to earth, and I couldn't help but laugh with joy. It was beautiful. It was shiny. It was revealed. 

The same moment, lit up. The same snow that, in darkness was just wet and cold, with illumination was transformed into beauty and joy.

Eventually, I called the dog and we went back inside to watch snowboarding Olympians. 

My light is on.