Hello, silent world.

Walk. Walk? (You know how it goes: you’re technically whispering, but it’s just loud enough.) Walk. You have to look outside! Somehow, the enthusiasm of the awake never fully rubs off on the dreary. But, I'm pleased to report, when he saw the snow, he was as overjoyed as I.

Flake upon downy flake has filled our garden with silence and rest. When my un-contacted eyes saw the white whir beyond the Christmas tree this morning, I became bouncy-ball hyper with exhilaration. Ok, not that excited. But, very. Snow has been vaulting in pellets like hail lately, not coating, so seeing white high and low and in-between was novel.


The snow is soft and wet, and there is simply nothing as fun as compressing it to a crunch with our boots. I know, Americans, you're thinking whatever, this is so ordinary-non-extraordinary, but for Scotland, this is a Christmas-pudding-special treat. When you don't have it, you love its arrival that much more. So, we're thankful for non-abundance of snow most of the time in bonnie Scotland, and relishing the marshmallow world we have for now.


Calm and cold, the peace of this weekend was the perfect canvas for studying and taking life as it came. Watching Miracle on 34th Street (classic) together. Emails from old friends. The smell of our little tree. Skyping family. Pizza night. One blackcurrant tea and one cappuccino at Costa, the Starbucks of Scotland. Time to scribble notes. Time to look out the window to check that it's still coming down and sticking up in the trees.


There's always that gray sky behind the snow, and this weekend, there were also tears (on my part) for those we love and are not near. Today, there is a headache and with it a bit of bleariness. But, every glance outside is clean, and we're reminded in billows and crunches to forget a perfect to-do-list day and get on with enjoying what we have before it melts. For instants that show us the world freshly plumped, we shall go on a-relishing.