It’s our first real snow. An unusual storm for November. My husband calculates it’s been 23 years since we had a snow day in November in this part of Pennsylvania.
The day represents an interruption of routine. Plans dashed. Progress shifted from outside errands to inside chores too long overlooked.
Yet the day also provides time to reflect. To enjoy quiet on the cusp of a season full of noise.
I linger over a book and enjoy a second cup of tea. It will be a while before shovels call us outside.
There is time before the world calls us back into the noise.
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