I’m no longer confused about the weather. Even if my daffodils hadn’t been covered by Monday’s snowfall, I couldn’t escape the forecast for today. More snow. Big snow. “Historic,” says the Washington Post, which is calling it Snowmageddon. “Be prepared to shelter in place,” says Arlington County, using words you just can’t throw around in the D.C. area. For my snow day activity (since school was cancelled well before the first flake fell) I’m having my kids write poems about snow; I’m doing the same in my brand new Moleskin notebook, a gift from my friend Sarah in the loveliest, freshest green you ever saw. Will I write about empty bread shelves or why people suddenly feel the need to hoard squash before a storm? Or will I write of stillness, cocoa, or the blinding white? For inspiration, I’m looking at this poem from Mary Oliver. What will you write about the snow?
Snow Geese
by Mary Oliver
Oh, to love what is lovely, and will not last!
What a task
to ask
of anything, or anyone,
yet it is ours,
and not by the century or the year, but by the hours.
One fall day I heard
above me, and above the sting of the wind, a sound
I did not know, and my look shot upward; it was
a flock of snow geese, winging it
faster than the ones we usually see,
and, being the color of snow, catching the sun
so they were, in part at least, golden. I
held my breath
as we do
sometimes
to stop time
when something wonderful
has touched us
as with a match,
which is lit, and bright,
but does not hurt
in the common way,
but delightfully,
as if delight
were the most serious thing
you ever felt.
The geese
flew on,
I have never seen them again.
Maybe I will, someday, somewhere.
Maybe I won’t.
It doesn’t matter.
What matters
is that, when I saw them,
I saw them
as through the veil, secretly, joyfully, clearly.
I don’t have an image of geese to leave you with, but here’s another magnolia picture from the Old Snow of Monday. Poetry Friday this week is being hosted by Mary Ann at Great Kid Books which is offering up poem by Langston Hughes.
We’ve got snow here, too. Not historic, but enough to muffle the city and make everything look clean and puffy. I’m not sure I’ll write about it, but I’ll definitely go tramping in it!
It SOUNDS magical. Thanks for coming by!
Thanks for sharing that poem, Madelyn. The Skagit Valley, just north of where I live in Seattle, is one of the places snow geese and trumpeter swans spend the winter. There are hundreds of them spread out over the fields – it’s magical.
That sounds lovely! We have rabbits and the occasional cat, though we do not own a cat. I haven’t seen the fox in winter, but it sounds like another good snow activity for the kids, to follow the tracks!
Ladies and gentlemen, man your shovels!
Lovely poem, Madelyn. I live for those moments of catching something beautiful on the wing.
I will write about animal footprints, my favorite part of a big snowfall. Not until the ground is covered do we realize how often the foxes, squirrels, deer, mice and raccoons have paced around our yard. 🙂