Read by Matilda Longbottom

As Robert Frost so beautifully captured in his poem “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening:”

Whose woods these are I think I know,
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

There’s something undeniably enchanting about watching the snow blanket the world in quiet beauty—unless, of course, you’re scraping it off your car and inching your way to work on slippery streets. But for those of us lucky enough to be nestled in our recliners, sipping a hot cup of coffee, we get to enjoy the scene guilt-free.

As the snowflakes dance outside our windows, we can’t help but reminisce about how “the snow was deeper back in the day,” right? Pair that with a friendly debate on climate change, and you’ve got a lively conversation starter for any retiree gathering. But oh, the joy of childhood Winters—building forts, making snow angels, and crafting slightly lopsided snowmen while our moms brought out steaming mugs of hot chocolate to warm our frozen fingers. Who knew back then that each snowflake landing on our tongues was a masterpiece of nature, perfectly unique in its design?

The wind whipped up snowdrifts so high that we couldn’t open the back door of our valley home. While that may have been a headache for the grown-ups, for us kids, it was the stuff of grand adventures!

Did you know snow is sometimes called the “poor man’s fertilizer?” It’s true! Snowflakes trap nitrogen, and when they melt, they release that precious nutrient into the soil. And, while you may feel compelled to shovel every inch of snow from your yard, experts say it’s better to let it be—Mother Nature has a plan. That fluffy blanket is insulating your plants, protecting their roots from the bitter cold, and preparing the garden for a Springtime burst of life. So, as you gaze at your snow-covered garden, just think of it as a Winter nap for your plants.

I’ll never forget the time I took a cross-country train trip in February. I didn’t expect to see so many miles of snow-covered farmlands! There were cows and sheep sipping from icy streams, their breath rising like clouds in the chilly air. As the train climbed the Raton Pass in New Mexico, I craned my neck to watch the caboose winding around the snowy mountain like a toy train on a Christmas card. The snow glittered in the sunlight and cast silvery shadows by moonlight. But when I finally reached San Diego, I was greeted by plastic Santas and palm trees—certainly not the Currier & Ives scene I was used to!

These days, I chuckle when workplaces close at the mere forecast of snow. Back in the ‘70s, there were no snow days—come rain, shine, or blizzard, you were expected to show up. I remember waddling through knee-deep snow to the train station while nine months pregnant, only to find that I was the only one who made it to the office! Nothing happened that day, but I worked, and that was just the way things were. Nowadays, everyone gets to work from home in their pajamas, warm and toasty inside, while the snow falls outside. Well, except for Santa—he’s got no choice but to brave the snow!

So, if you’re lucky enough to watch the snow falling this Winter, take a moment to enjoy the simple beauty of it all. Notice how tree branches cradle the snow, how a cardinal perched on a snowy hedge makes the world feel a little brighter, and how the snow crunches underfoot like a frozen symphony. Let it bring you joy, even if you’ve never shoveled a driveway in your life (like me!)

Disclaimer: I’ve never shoveled snow, nor salted a driveway. Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t feel quite so romantic about it! ❖

About the Author: Hannah Dougherty Campbell, a spirited wordsmith with a heart as lush as her garden, hails from the suburbs of Philadelphia. Inspired by the beauty of nature and the resilience of the human spirit, Hannah found solace and creativity in crafting heartfelt poetry. With a background in teaching and a passion for nurturing creativity, she imparts her wisdom through her creative-writing classes, where she encourages others to explore the depths of their souls through the written word. Her cherished tradition of assigning flowers to personalities has blossomed into a family heirloom, enriching the lives of her loved ones and students alike. Through her work, she reminds us all of the delicate dance between nature and humanity, where every petal tells a story and every soul blooms in its own unique way.