The silence of snow.

Yesterday, my boss surprised me with a “Go home, Rhonda. It’s getting bad out there.”

Yipppeeee! A snow afternoon to go home and warm up on the couch with a book, write thank you notes, make some cookies, and enjoy the beauty of the first snowfall!

It took a few minutes to clear the heavy this-is-snowman-kind-of-snow from the windows on the car, but I was careful and drove slowly on the snow packed road, sliding slightly when I turned the corner onto our street. No problem, though. I am an experienced snow pack driver.

Until I turned into the driveway and made it about five feet up the sloped runway and stopped, tires spinning. I backed up and went nowhere. I tried forward. Went nowhere. How completely ridiculous that I could maneuver this vehicle all the way home only to get stuck at the bottom of the drive.

I got it unstuck and backed up across the street to get a running gunning go. Woohoo. Halfway up the drive. Only to slide back down and stop in the same stuck place at the bottom.

And then I saw my hero open the door.

For the next 45 minutes or so, my rescuer worked to unstuck the car, get it up the driveway mountain and safely in its place in the garage, and then shoveled the entire driveway with me.

I was grateful for my Dad yesterday, and I am still grateful for my Dad today.


I am grateful for the gift of being inside when snow is falling outside.

I am grateful for the silence of a beautiful snowfall.

I am grateful for a shoveled driveway and no falls while shoveling. I think that’s a first for me on Mount Scofield, driveway of the Rockies.

What we SHOULD have been doing on Mount Scofield,
except that we need it for vehicle storage.


I am grateful for the sound of snow crunch.

I am grateful for just enough time to come inside, make cookies, write most of my thank you notes, and put some chili on the stove for dinner.

I am grateful for a new sweater that I could live in every single day if only no one noticed. Thank you, Sam.

And I am grateful for lots of Kleenex and Mucinex.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s