October 29, 2009

White Dog and I sat and watched the first little tentative flakes wisp by the window. "It's snowing!" I said incredulously. We live in Albuquerque and it snows only a handful of times a winter...and never in October. We stared out of the window in fascination as the pace picked up and the flakes got bigger, fluffier, more determined. It felt like we were looking inside of a snow globe. The wind swirled the leaves out of the way leaving a clear path for the snow to land lightly and then quietly disintegrate. When the pace was heavy enough that a snow surface was being formed, White Dog could not longer just spectate...she ran out of the dog door. I watched her from inside joyously jump up to catch snowflakes on her tongue. White Dog zoomed around leaving tracks then turned back to see where she had been. She stood absolutely still with her head tilted back and just let the snow dust her. It was a beautiful peaceful sight. For 45 minutes she and I shared the fairy land created by the snow clustering on branches, quieting all of the urban noises...and then, since this is Albuquerque, the sun came out and everything disappeared in minutes.