As the Flakes Fall through the Silent Night
By Barclay
The prep for the blizzard starts days before the storm hits. The bigger storms that print blizzard into the forecast cause panic buys clearing grocery and hardware shelves of the prized possessions needed to endure the long haul. So with all the water, batteries, wood, dry goods to feed us, we settle in with that feeling of "go ahead, bring it".
Once it starts, just before dark, the fire is already warming the cottage. We snuggle up, under the plush down comforter, hot chocolate in hand, wrapped like a Twizzler, looking out the slider windows. The flakes come down quietly, lightly, gently falling to the ground. A light wind swirls some back up, glistening, sparkling through the fading light of day, before landing and settling into the building accumulation.
Darkness encroaches more quickly in a storm this big with thick clouds and millions of crystals diverting the last light of day. As such, the fire flickers light lapping dancing glows and shadows throughout the room, both landing and moving in their orange glow. Outside, the dark takes on a diffused impression of depth and perceptions with so many shades of white to black from close to far to the back woods. The furthest images are well-blurred and swaying in the building wind, now swirling through the night.
Feeling invincible at your side, wrapped so tightly into you, is bliss that should never be allowed to end. I watch those flickers of gold dance across your smile, your beautiful, peaceful, face and know I am in a dream. An incredible contradiction of warmth, safety, comfort here with you, under the covers as opposed to the now howling, frozen, storm raging through the night.
And so the night goes, no TV, soft light of the fire, storm outside kept at bay, and the ecstasy of your company here, even in the quiet moments, until we drift off to a dreamy sleep.