Silence and snow

Last night the temperature was expected to drop below freezing and the residents around here were full of excitement with the thought of snow. Being a native Floridian, it's hard to look past the fact it's just too cold to anticipate snow, especially since I have yet to see it.

Last Sunday, there were snow flurries that stayed intact but did not collect in bulk on the ground. It was beautiful to watch them move. There was this silence, peculiar to one who is accustomed to the variety of music that rain plays as it dances from the sky to the ground. The snow however, had no sound. It was a bit hard to accept... seeing these white clods of frozen water and other particulate matter moving about, but creating no noise.... silence. It made me realize how much I enjoyed and took for granted the wonderful sounds of rain.

I have always enjoyed the rains and love to watch the water flow. I get a kick out of watching it move and flow, how it interacts with barriers and carries material. Sometimes, I wish I could do it all day. Perhaps that is why I love the ocean so and can watch and listen to the waves rise and fall. Imagine the ocean without sound. That would be a cruel joke to play on someone. It also makes me feel for those who are not capable of enjoying the symphony of sounds. I like to hone in on one particular sound and then slowly bring myself into the grand concert by noticing adjoining sounds, slowly adding them, until a blissful symphony engulfs me.

However, I originally started this blog entry to say that when I awoke this morning the residents anticipation had been met. There was snow sitting and waiting to be noticed. Unfortunately, I was late rising this morning and did not witness the falling of the snow. As of now, it disappearing... quickly. It was just a preview of what is to come. In joining the others, I anxiously await its return. Perhaps I'll be able to touch it and make a snowball this year!