Midnight Adventure * *

The sky is an amethyst tonight.
I looked out the window (I knew I shouldn't because I was at that very perfect tired spot where I knew I could fall asleep if I just went to bed...) and I was a goner.
I had to wait though, because I was just already waiting for the special secret midnight oatmeal in the pot on the stove.
That only made it better though, because then I got to eat it with the milk and the brown sugar like when I was little, at the old table like when I was little, and look out the big window like when I was little, at the first snow silently sparkling and growing like holy moss on everything outside.
Having to wait and watch something so new and pure and lovely as it happened right before me (but still somehow apart from me) was so wonderfully torturous! I just wanted to be out in it and I felt like I was on the verge of melting through the walls just to be in it...but first I had to wait and watch...but then! I noticed that watching it from inside got me ready to love it right, better than I could have if I just ran out the door at first sight of it. I absorbed the glow of the hazy heavens, starless but then suddenly full of sparkling bodies (the reflection on the window of the specks in the ceiling above me), studied the way the old white of the gnarled birch tree challenged the sky and harbored its beautiful orphans beneath his boughs, acknowledged for the first time this year the towering height and noble stature of the old evergreens whose knees grow weak as the time goes by, admired the bold virginity of this unnoticed midnight landscape...
I didn't anticipate how wonderfully deep it was. I'm glad. Shoefuls of powder were welcome in this girl's world tonight. I'm terrible about depth perception. Which makes for everything always being much more impressive and engulfing and interesting than I anticipate it to be! I'm not going to lie...I love snow...and I greedily covet first snowfalls...I just wait and pray that they will be during secret midnights when I can be the only one who notices them...(I prayed pleadingly today for it to snow just like this...for the sky to wait till everyone was asleep and then whisper its winter wish into the world, warm but just cold enough to make your nose run a little, so much snow, swirling and filling up the empty spaces fall left...and here it is! Exactly what I asked for! What a lovely gift!!)
Sometimes I think I should be a tree or something outside. I don't quite feel right indoors. Not that I believe in reincarnation or anything (pff), but I just mean that...well nature is so much better at all this than we are. Every branch and bush and leftover leaf I passed was just patiently reaching up to catch the blessings that were drifting down to them. How often do I miss that when I've shut myself up inside of some manmade dwelling? I am sooooo good at shielding myself from wonderful possibilities. I felt ridiculous to be shown-up by a dead bush. Super-humbling. Super-inspiring. I guess I have to ask myself if I'm going to file it away in my mind or live it now.
(I'm always bad at this part) * * *