Yesterday, as so many did, I woke up in a lovely snow globe.
The flakes fluttered and danced, twirling in a soft, soothing ballet; cradling the earth in a gentle hush.
It brought back treasured memories of sledding, of snowmen and snow angels. I caught snowflakes on my tongue. I marveled at the frosted trees. I frolicked. (It’s a proud Moore family tradition.)
About halfway through shoveling my driveway, however, things felt slightly less fun. The chill numbed my fingers. The wind reversed my progress. The plow rumbled as it roared by, tossing waves of snow back onto my newly cleared surface.
Sadly, I stopped seeing the glory of the snow. And only saw the tediousness of the work.
Then, one of my sweet furry neighbors bounded out to share her ball with me.
As I tossed it for her, the snow morphed from annoying icy stuff to dreamy marshmallow fluff.
It’s all in one’s perspective.
The skies haven’t cleared yet, but thanks to this precious pup, my thinking has.