Snow!

Just as predicted, the snow started falling this afternoon and it's falling still as the day grows dark, piling up in marshmallow mounds on the branches, while it melts almost as fast as it falls on the still-warm earth.  We are hoping the roads will be clear tomorrow when we head to Vermont to join extended family for Thanksgiving.  Today's snowy day was a good day to be home baking the pies I will be bringing to the feast.  All are now out of the oven, the dishes washed, and the floury mess cleaned from the counters and floor.  Time to gaze out at the transformed landscape now turning blue as the day declines.  And time to read Mary Oliver's lovely poem about snow, "Walking Home from Oak-Head," from her collection Thirst, published by Beacon Press.

Walking Home from Oak-Head

There is something
   about the snow-laden sky
      in winter
         in the late afternoon

that brings to the heart elation
   and the lovely meaninglessness
          of time.
                Whenever I get home -- whenever --

somebody loves me there.
   Meanwhile
         I stand in the same dark peace
                 as any pine tree,

or wander on slowly
    like the still unhurried wind,
          waiting,
                as for a gift,

for the snow to begin
    which it does
           at first casually,
                  then, irrepressibly.

Wherever else I live --
    in music, in words,
           in the fires of the heart,
                 I abide just as deeply

in this nameless, indivisible place,
    this world,
          which is falling apart now,
                 which is white and wild,

which is faithful beyond all our expressions of faith,
   our deepest prayers.
         Don't worry, sooner or later I'll be home.
                Red-cheeked from the roused wind,

I'll stand in the doorway
     stamping my boots and slapping my hands,
            my shoulders
                  covered with stars.

Dear friends, I wish you all the happiest of Thanksgivings, filled with many blessings and safe travels.  And I also hope that, whenever you get home, somebody loves you there.