This afternoon it snowed. Not a lot, not for very long and certainly not as much as last year, but still white, fluffy snowflakes fell from the sky. And for a little while everything felt quiet and still and right with the world.
I was home alone which was weird. I wandered around the garden for a bit, shrieked and whooped to no one at all and then I did a silly little dance because I felt like I should. After it slowed down, I raced back inside to warm my frozen toes.
And as I sat there by the fire defrosting and scrolling through Facebook and Instagram, it occurred to me that snow really is magical. My feeds were completely full of snow stories and announcements and photos. For half an hour or maybe even an hour, our little part of the world had forgotten about politics and war, anniversaries of sadness and the death of a pet bunny, and instead we were celebrating the white stuff.
It was exciting and exhilarating and cold.
I'm told we might even get more tomorrow. Yay!
The wind is howling outside here, I'm going to take my book into the bath.
Oh and I almost forgot, my photo made it onto The Age website, YAY!
Stay warm my friends. Or keep cool as the case may be.