snow

It's the middle of the night, and I'm looking out the window as a light snow falls. It's a view that, while lovely, would normally inspire thoughts of shoveling and brushing off my car before work. Not my favorite activities. But it's different this time. I feel fortunate just to be able to see out my window. Less than 10 miles to the south, my friends don't have that luxury. The Knife Storm of 2014 (insert eye roll at lame nickname) broke the U.S. record for one-day snowfall, dropping more than five feet of snow in some places, with more to come. I was lucky this time. The lake effect snow band stayed well to the south of me, and my neighborhood got maybe five or six inches total.

Following my friends and coworkers on social media and viewing the photo galleries sent out to an incredulous world has made my jaw drop more than once. I'm grateful I was spared this time. I'm sorry and concerned for those stuck in their homes or workplaces with little chance of getting out before the weekend. I'm determined to stock up on essentials for the inevitable time when I'll be the one snowed in (maybe next week, maybe in five years). I'm in awe of nature's power, which can easily destroy anything we create but cannot break our spirit.

My facebook feed is full of people being the best that people can be... caring, concerned, looking out for each other. I received several notes from friends all over the country checking to see if I'm ok. Unfortunately there's a lot of behavior that falls short, as well, and I'm trying not to dwell on any of that. Life's too short, and I've no right to complain anyway.

Next week America takes time out to celebrate a day of giving thanks. I would imagine more than a few people will have a new appreciation for their many blessings. I know I will.