"That reservoir of frost and snow..." ~ Jane Eyre
Dust of Snow
The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued
~ Robert Frost
If I could leap into a poem just as Alice leapt into a looking glass, it would be a poem by Robert Frost.
Air temperature here in New York is arctic, as it is in most places on the eastern seaboard. My building is rather dilapidated, so the heater in my classroom has been blowing out cold air. Needless to say, I am wearing earmuffs as I grade literary essays. Thankfully a colleague just came in with his Swiss Army Knife and adjusted the thermostat; its behind lock and key, thanks to the miserly administration, but he managed to get in and ensure that I don't become a popsicle this morning.
Still, I cannot express how happy I am that I saw snow yesterday. It has been the most stressful week - a week I have rued - but the snow falling in thick flakes yesterday calmed me so very much. I love blankets of snow because I love staying under my blankets in such weather, reading good novels and listening to Handel. I am on a Handel kick of late.
I love walking in snow after a storm when the sun shines brightly off of the snow, making it sparkle. The world is quiet, save a few churchbells I hear from a church close to my home, and a few children screaming as they stuff a carrot into a snowman's head to make a nose and wrap an old tattered scarf around his neck.
Yesterday's dust of snow makes me long for the serenity that I always find after a snowfall; something Frost captures so well in his poetry.