I remember a time like this, years ago, sitting on the back porch watching the snow fall in silence. A time before the hustle of adulthood set in, before the years of college, the bills, the jobs, the general demands of civilized society. Back in a time when the greatest expectation was a finished chore and the sharing of a toy. There’s something magic in the falling of snow. Something that allows deep breaths of renewal and general cleansing of the spirit. There are few things as powerful, majestic, and God given as the mighty roar of the ocean, but the silence of the falling snow, the world covered in white and purity, is a close competitor.
