Cold Brings Snow

"It's negative 13 degrees outside right now, you might have a snow day" are words that I never imagined waking up to on a regular weekday morning. Forever used to the default of California warmth, what a jolting reality of winter it has been. 

But you know what? Cold brings snow. The snow! Oh the snow is amazingly beautiful. Beauty doesn't even really begin to describe the view when you're on a ski lift peering down to the slopes and valleys below. Tree tops reaching up to touch the crisp blue layer just beyond reach--stretching, peering, almost grazing clouds as they pass by with the whisking winter wind.

Matt and I made a trip up to Keystone together for a morning of skiing, and how quick my breath was taken away. Yes, literally, because it was so dry and cold--but figuratively speaking too, as the sight of the mountains captivated my heart like that of a child on Christmas morning. The snow is different here. Not sticky and wet, or icy and hard, like what I found myself learning to navigate as a beginning snowboarder in California's limited winter landscape, but dry and just waiting to be fluffed up, waiting to be swiftly passed through, making turns and edges not as scary to take--a snow that builds my confidence as I take to it strapped in a board, bundled up head to toe, racing down the mountain.

"Its negative thirteen," is never what I thought I'd hear right before I had to get out of bed, and drive to work. But never did I imagine I'd live just an hour away from mountain top beauty with a white layer of winter that dares me to race down its slopes. I'll take negative numbers any day, if it means views above pine trees reaching towards cotton candy strands of white and snow that goes fluff.

In This Little Pattern of Houses

Winter is definitely still winning, and although the cold is wearing, how refreshing it is to step outside and walk around my neighborhood. I realize I won't always live in this little pattern of houses, so its important to me to notice the subtle things that one might otherwise just pass by. Like the homes with old red brick, some revealing cracks, others covered in ivy, faded yet steadfast against the bitter cold winter and extreme heat of July. Or the trees with roots and a fullness that says they've been there longer than the families that live only meters away, grown to shelter the streets, provide shade in the summer, a fluttering of leaves and piles below come fall, and a stark silhouette against the setting winter sun. 

Its important to notice these things, and store up little anecdotes like how that one house always has that one dog, and how come night or day, rain or shine, he stands watch just waiting to stick his damp charcoal nose through the fence and let me know who's boss. Or how the bookstore down the way always has a Barbara Kingsolver title setting in its window display, reminding me of my favorite tales of family and daughters in her book The Poisonwood Bible, while also nudging me to finish my never-ending read of The Prodigal Summer. And how the alleyways are like little galleries, a collection of street art, or plant art, or patterns of burnt and ash against walls that have taken their stand on these Denver streets, through and through--seeing their fair share of trash, ferrel cats, and broken glass sparkling, scattered, reflecting the bright Colorado sun.

Its important to package it all up, so I don't forget. Its important so that I can remember to be thankful for these winter walks, in this little pattern of houses, on these days where the sun always seems to be two hours ahead--where I am chasing it, asking for one more hour, one more glimpse of warmth. Winter is still winning, and when I catch up to its setting sun, I see the beauty of its early slumber, the melancholy of the winter night sounds, and the hope that winter instills--of warmth, of growth, of Spring.

Bon Voyage for Winter.

photo source

We are enjoying the last stretch of warm days before the snow arrives. Luckily, cold days in Denver are still paired with sunshine-- and that I am thankful for. You may have noticed my lack of new material on the blog over the past month. Part of that lack is due to my need to get outdoors, be with Matt, and spend time cultivating friendships. Another part of that is related to my heart-- the layers beneath, and seeking the Lord. Just as there is summer, fall, winter and spring, there are also seasons in life. Currently, I am going through a season of needing to simplify and step back from a few things. One of those things being Pearls Poppies Pinkies Up.  So as I am signing off for a bit, know this isn't goodbye, its only just see you in a little while.

You can still catch me writing and sharing projects over at Darling Magazine. I am excited to say that I will be contributing on a more regular basis under The Hostess, so definitely be checking in to read what myself and other women are writing about--over here.

xo,

Lauren