There’s something very peaceful about snow. You go to bed and it’s cold and stark, and somewhere in the middle of the night, a blanket of white falls from the sky, fluff by fluff so that in the morning, the world is quiet – muted – clean and crisp.
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Then morning comes and everything is clean and bright, but that’s when it sinks in that there is work to do. Shoveling. Even still, in spite of knowing that driving is now going to be more difficult and the driveway and the sidewalk need to be cleared, with snow still falling gently from the sky, I’m still vibing peace and tranquility. It’s magic. Really, it is.
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