Beautiful in Vermont

“Must be beautiful in Vermont this time of year-all that snow.”

This is a line from the classic holiday film, White Christmas.  Every year I would watch this with my parents.  It is one of my most beloved winter memories.  What’s more, every first snowfall, my father would rise in the morning, go to the front window, and proclaim this statement for all to hear: “Must be beautiful in Vermont this time of year.”

This morning, I awoke and padded to the window and declared real winter to have come.  My car had a good four inches atop it, and the road had not been plowed well yet.  I got dressed and started brushing the car off as one does after the first snowfall-with a snowbrush just dug out of the back of the trunk and one glove. 

I carefully maneuvered out of the driveway and off to Mark’s work, skidding a bit at the turns but reaching pavement once I got out of the city.  To get there, though, I had to go through the park.  Cazenovia Park in South Buffalo is probably my favorite of the Olmstead system.  The only thing I hate about it is it’s placement, smack dab in the middle of the neighborhood, separating east and west.  I drive though it at least twice a day, at 15 mph, careful over the speed bumps. 

This morning though, it had not been plowed at all, and the road was indiscernible.  I couldn’t even make out tire tracks in the fresh snow.  I inched though the park, even slower than normal, and was a little sad because I didn’t get to appreciate the beauty of it.  I was too concentrated about not driving into the creek.

Anyway, after I got home, I came inside and bundled up, because it is freezing.  I could turn up the heat, but I’m pretty militant about the thermostat, a trait I think I must’ve picked up from my father.  So, I grabbed some blankets and shuffled into the office and took the picture below-that’s the view from my office door.  Fresh blankets of snow.

I didn’t really have much to write about today.  Things are ok.  I have been well for a few days, my finger gets a little better every day (still, it aches already after only 500 words,) and my family had some good news today: a new cousin has been born.  There wasn’t mush on my mind, but then I stood in the window and took that picture and thought of my dad so many mornings in my youth.

“Must be beautiful in Vermont this time of year.”

Must be.

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