January 4: Snow

Is it true that no two snowflakes are alike?

They must shape themselves while suspended between sky and earth--or allow themselves to be shaped by the temperature of the air, surrendering.

I love the Charlie Brown Christmas special, and weep every year when I watch it. I know, I'm sappy. But every year when January comes, I always remember Lucy's statement that she never eats December snowflakes. January snowflakes are where it's at. All the others look puzzled--well, as puzzled as any cartoon characters from the 1960s can look. 

I have been so busy this week, trying to keep everybody moving through a series of major and minor crises.

The other day, though, I stopped on my front stoop on my way out the door and was surprised to see real, big, beautiful snowflakes falling. This has happened only a handful of times this winter; the ground is covered, but mostly we've been dealing with icy cold temperatures, not snow.

I put out my tongue, letting the flakes fall onto it. I caught three. I thought about Lucy and was delighted enough to laugh out loud.

That's when I realized my favorite police officer was sitting in his car at the stop sign, literally laughing at me. Or with me. He has some idea of what my family has been going through this season. 

He called out, "Gotta make your own fun, eh?" 

"In times like these, yeah," I shouted back.

"Well, it's beautiful, that's for sure." 

I looked around for a second, breathed in the cold air, and said, "Yes."


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