Savoring the Last Snow. Hopes.

Funny how I yearly lament autumn’s pending ending yet the first snow brings joy. I never settle into winter, as long as it lasts, I wait wait for it to end. And yet, when the last snow fall falls I climb atop our dryer to stare out this window and savor it. Now, I’m sitting on my rumbling dryer, warm seat with feet cold on the sink-side, with my laptop on my lap. It’ll be nine months before I see snow again. I hope.

Every summer I forget what the gray the brown and the white looks like. Every winter I can’t fully recall lush. I forget what hot feels like too. Come fall, the first 50 degree day chills me yet the rare 40 degree day in winter draws me outside coatless. I like the quarterly anticipation. The hope of winter soon ending has had me jumpy for two weeks. I can’t wait. But here I am. On the dryer.

My hope for spring, my hope for summer remind me of my hope in the Lord’s salvation. No one ever considers the possibility that spring will not come. We have no doubt. It’s just waiting.