A Marshmallow World

I awoke to a marshmallow world this morning. My back yard was a wonderland of deep drifts and sweeping branches tufted in a powdery splendor that can only be seen in late winter. I have always thought that late winter snows somehow attempt to convey sadness in their beauty. It seems, to me at least, that these snows are desperate to leave us with an impression of graceful beauty and serene majesty. It is almost as if they are trying to impress upon us a memory of cozy sleepy lie-ins and hot chocolate laced snow days. All of these impressions are, of course, as fickle as fairies and twice as hard to catch; nevertheless I stand firmly resolute in the conviction that they are, to me, a fanciful version of the world I see; a world where winter tries to exit in our good graces by providing one last spectacular show of the glory of snow.

My flighty version of a cold and wet late winter day is, I doubt not, at odds with Don’s firmly landed first hand account of the conditions outside our window; though he does on occasion surprise me with a brief yet fanciful view that parallels my own and when he does, it delights me. He left the house not long ago, loaded down with PB&J sandwiches, sugar free pudding and drinks for the indoor track team. They have a meet this evening and it is difficult to address their nutritional needs any other way than with very portable food that is, for the most part provided by the parents.

In closing, here is another random Betty thought. If I could be one “thing” I believe I would like to be a musical note because a single note of music will always be a part of something.

There is always hope.