I woke up to snow. Big, fluffy white flakes cascading down and covering the yard like a spell. Falling straight down, content and calm. My son ran outside and came back in declaring that it was nice and warm (20 degrees is currently considered warm, compared to the single digits this week).

But the snow, the snow made me smile. White is a color that scares me the majority of the time. I just don’t like it. It’s death to me. Except when it’s snowing. I got caught in a blizzard a few years ago. My car couldn’t make it out of a small incline in my work’s parking lot. Everyone was gone, there’s no busses. So I decided to walk home. Takes me 10 minutes to drive. Shouldn’t be so hard to walk. Found some mismatched extra gloves in the back, along with a summer hat. I left my car and headed out, wearing only my thin hospital scrubs and trudging through three feet of snow, rising fast.

At first, it took my breath away. There was no one out on the long frontage road. It was so silent, so still, I felt like the only one alive. The snow clung to everything and made the world look crystalline. The images of the snow- and ice- encased trees is seared into my memory. Just amazing, and I am a summer child and hate cold things.

Three hours later, I just wanted to sit down and rest. Mid-way, I thought that something on the busy road up ahead would be open: grocery store, any of the fast food places, car shops, anything. But everyone had left work early and closed up. I was smart enough to know that I could not stop for any reason, so I pushed through and kept going. Hardest thing ever.

Learned that you can’t walk six miles in a blizzard.

Even so, I see snow like this and I remember the beginnings of that adventure: the beauty, the magic. And today, the day my book released in ebook format, I see the snow and smile, recognizing my own symbolism. You’ll have to read the book to find out why.