In the stillness of the 'white'

Morning after an 'almost' blizzard. The weather report had told us that we were under blizzard alert, but as we could still see the majority of houses in town no one paid much notice. As the evening progressed the winds grew stronger, I felt my house shake a little and allowed myself the pleasant thought that I might get a 'blizzard day' at school the next morning. Alas, I woke to the silence that comes after the storm. However, walking to school I was struck by the silence of the town. Too early for the snow plows and sand truck to be at work. No school for students meant few snow machines were out in the early morning, no school busses either. Just silence and new white drifts. The wind had blown old and new snow around so much that all paths and roads were hidden. White on white plays tricks on you in the soft morning light as you navigate familiar routes. You do not even notice a snow drift until you walk into it and find the snow creeping toward the tops of your boots. The snow makes things warmer, if you call -15 warm, and if you live up here you do (past few weeks have been hovering around -30 plus wind). The higher the sun climbs, the more depth and definition you begin to see in the pure whiteness that surrounds you. It often gives me the desire to take a running leap into a snow bank, only the knowledge that under the snow is hard, wind driven ice stops me. As the town wakes, the stillness is broken by the normal sounds of winter, snow machines roaring, and chains clinking. But for that brief moment in the early morning, all is silent and white the day after a storm.