by Bella Rum
It’s cozy in here. A candle is burning, a hot cup of creamy coffee is steaming, and the CD player is slowly squeezing out those long, silky notes – the ones that roll slowly down your spine like a warm summer shower. It’s snowing big mesmerizing flakes outside my window. This is my favorite kind of day. I love torrential rains or relentlessly long, slow snows that take the entire day to spread their billowy quilt of ivory across the earth.
There’s something about this kind of day that requires surrender; it offers an excuse to slow down and give in to the comforts of home and hearth. On a day like this, even if the phone rings with urgent news, I can do nothing about it. The very air is thick with reprieve. Everything must wait till another day. The inner self must be paid attention while the world stands and waits. The universe says so.
So gather your boots and scarves and mittens, pull out your sleds and climb your hills; build your men and throw your snowballs and make your ephemeral angels. I leave this merry work to you. I will stay here with my warm liquids to drink and pots of hot concoctions to eat and an old movie to watch. These are my snow days now, and I relish them.