Tuesday, January 27, 2009

An occasional series.

Today, it snowed. My dog, Jilly and I take a walk to the park every morning and today, there were snowflakes coming down all around us. Softly. Quietly. What is it that makes snow covered anything more magical?

The streets are still streets. The trees are still trees. The rocks are still rock solid. Yet, covered with a dusting of snow, they change into something even more beautiful. There seems to be more mystery here.

Is it the soft, fluffiness covering the world’s rough edges? Is it the glitter, glistening of the light bouncing off the white snow? Or is it what you don’t see, that creates the magic and mystery. The mystery of the partially snow covered branches, rocks and leaves, or the contrast of the uncovered dark edges up against the soft, white mounded snow.

There is a contrast to everything that gives a new dimension to life. But there is the part of the world that is now covered by snow. It’s not visible to us in all its color, shape and detail. It’s hidden. That’s the mystery.

Oh, we can all fill in the blanks of what’s really there. But what if we let our imagination create something new there, just for today. We can imagine that underneath the snow, there’s something new. Maybe there’s a flower, a treasure, or a hidden world.

I do know that it changes my walk. My feet sqwoosh on the snow. The snow falls so quietly. Everything seems hushed, even the ducks quack and the birds twitter softer. I see the seagulls standing on the ice in the middle of the lake. I smell the clean, cold brightness and taste the flakes as they fall on my lips.
The world just feels softer, prettier, and calmer. So do I. Why? That’s the mystery. Maybe, that’s the magic, too.

(My dog, Jilly and I take a walk in the park every morning. It’s exercise for my body, but it’s also an exercise for my creativity. Leaves, trees, rocks, water, birds become more than passing objects, they become food for my imagination and a source of on-going inspiration. I’ll be sharing my morning experiences occasionally here on my blog. Let me know what you think.)


Susan J Tweit said...

"My feet sqwoosh in the snow"--what a perfect phrase. Thanks for sharing your walk!

I just tagged you with the happy meme. Check it out on my blog (http://susanjtweit.typepad.com/walkingnaturehome) and have fun playing!

Susan GT said...

I wondered when I wrote that new word, there, that's not exactly a word. But that's what I heard when I walked, so I put it down.

I'm glad you liked it...

turtlewoman said...

Hello Susan, This is my first visit to your blog - thanks to Susan Tweit for the link. What beautiful, heartfelt writing. Isn't it funny in a strange sort of way how we are able to connect with someone we do not know, have never met, and may possibly never meet? Your descriptions of trying to find some personal space and your loss of Heather and adoption of Jilly are things I am able to connect directly to.

As a 4th grade teacher who is working to try and reconnect her students with nature I will look forward to your morning experiences while on your walks.

Lindy in AZ (I also walk my 2 rescued dogs every morning before school and every afternoon after school).

Susan GT said...

So glad you stopped by my blog and thanks to Susan Tweit for the link up.

I'm so glad to hear that my words connected with you. It's been a risk on my part, encouraged by Susan, to open up a little more in my writing on the blog.

Yes, the internet is a wonderland of connection in many ways. As long as I don't get lost there and forget to get into the studio. I'm honored that you might be able to use my musings to inspire a connection to nature for your students. I'd like to hear more about how you do that, also. I teach mask making classes to elementary school children and find their creative energy uplifting and inspiring.

How wonderful that you've found a place in your heart and home for two dogs who needed to be rescued!