The Grieving of the White Mistress

I did not know what time it was. I was still in my bed and comfortably tucked in my sheets. Everything is still, no chirping of the birds and no squeaks from the squirrels.

Only the whispers of the winds that hustled against the glass windows broke the overwhelming silence. The fire is burning at the fireplace and I could smell the wood burning. But no matter how thick my flannel pajamas are layered with my thermal, I could not help myself from shivering.

My eyes were still closed but my brain was already conscious. Apparently, my down covers have fallen from my bed. As I tried to reach for it I saw through my bedroom window that it was already snowing. It was the first day of snow of the year, and it was magnificent.

It was the day before Thanksgiving. The crimson leaves of the deciduous trees that line our street have completely fallen. From the warmth of my house, I watched the outside world welcome the coldest season of the year.

As if barren, only the green colored pine trees contrasted the landscape of white covered grounds. Six inches thick of snow has cloaked the earth with its solemn beauty. Like minute specks of dust falling gently, ice fell as if God is chistling from the heavens above. The velvety white gleamed and reflected the light that penetrated through the dark clouds in the horizons.

The skies seem so heavy, as if heaven and earth are reaching for each other’s bosom. Pavements are drenched with melted snow and rooftops are laid with perfect veil of white against the smokes of chimney. Such a picturesque piece of land, such life in this dark and cold weather.

After a rose from my bed I took my robe from the edge of my bed and wore my winter slippers. I hurried to the kitchen where I found my Mom mixing hot chocolate on the stove. She poured the black thick liquid on a mug decorated with Old St. Nicholas’ portrait sleeping on a rocking chair.

I added sprinkles of marshmallows and settled myself on the stool by the nook. I smelled the sweet savory flavor evaporating and smiled at my Mom with content. I love winter mornings, all the peace that envelops the earth lets me contemplate through the depths of my long sleeping soul.

I went to the bathroom to take a shower. When I turned the knob and the waters started to gently lather my flesh, the hot waters steamed and misted the smoked windows.  It is a very relaxing feeling to find yourself so warm in this extremely frosted environment. After I finished, I put on my winter attire.

I have prepared several pieces of clothing to prudently warm me through different layers. I wore my black colored thermal covering the entire lengths of my arms and legs and wrapping my body’s torso. Its smooth texture was a comfort to my skin. Then I continued with my dark blue turtle neck fleece sweater and I slid into a pair of straight cut denim jeans.

I took my knee length winter boots made of camel colored suede with flat soles, wore them on my feet and slipped on my black down jacket that extends to my waist.

I took my beret and placed it on my head and I warmed my hands with a pair of gray colored and knitted gloves. I finished off with with a long scarf that matches my mittens, wrapped it on my neck and stepped out of our front door.

The cold winds gently brushed through my face and softly blew my hair. A distinct chill rushed through my veins which immediately made my shoulders tremble a little.

I smelled the air and found myself smiling as I understood that pumpkin pies are being baked at our neighbor’s oven. Its sweet flavor entered my nose and I heartily enjoyed its scent. I saw my friend living next door, she is already outside playing with the snow. I saw her lying on the ground repeatedly swaying her arms and feet upwards and downwards.

I realized that she is making a snow angel, as if a lass in the midst of a fairly land. I ran towards her and leaped next to her and made my own childhood memories come to life. The earth was soft and cold and I just stared at the skies with a sigh.

Winter days are beautiful, they have their own charm and endearing beauty. Though most of the world seems to be barren and lifeless, it still holds a promise of rejuvenation. Nights may be longer than days, but the darkness retires our spirit and refreshes our sousls.

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