A blanket of snow covers my town, adding a loveliness to the day.

And a stillness that invites me to sit and look out the window. To gaze upon the brilliant white lawn scattered with prints of the deer enjoying their leisurely morning commute. Stopping to snack on my bush, as if I planted the garden for their pleasure.

The trees shake with the wind, breaking free from the snow.

I see how this dance not only protects the trees, but prepares for the wrapped lights to brighten the night when it arrives. My ears perk at the sound of the birds, pulling my eyes to the feeder.

There is a calmness to the hustle and bustle with a steady stream of feathered visitors.

As if an invisible air traffic controller guides the pattern. Alighting on the tree top and moving down the branches until the way is clear. There’s room for 5 birds at a time in this system. Rotating tiny flying machines, some wrapped in red, eat their fill and lift off to destinations unknown. Even the ground crew is busy at work. Sometimes a chipmunk, other times my dog.

Taking turns and wasting nothing.

The stillness awakens a lightness of being as my breath settles me within my body. It’s a pleasure to sit still and look. This mostly quiet world tells me stories of partnership and beauty. Cooperation and kindness. Survival and creativity.

An entire library in my backyard.

A breeze gusts the snow in a swirling pattern. Upward and outward. Light as a snowflake. Heavy as a blanketed lawn. Gazing at this natural landscape, feeling the warmth and beauty within my home, I reflect on this pandemic holiday season. The sweetness and grief. The gain and the loss. The lightness and the heaviness. The disappointment and the celebration.