Apparently it is typical for Colorado to receive a dump of snow at the end of April or beginning of May. And we got it.
On Friday night, some flakes hit the ground, and roughly 24 hours later, the last one finally dropped.
I’m not sure of the exact measurement we received, but I can tell you my puppy’s legs were 100% covered when he went out, and all of the powder-covered evergreens made the neighborhood look like a winter wonderland.
And when we went out to dinner with friends on Friday, the restaurant manager mentioned that the next morning they would have a deal: “Buy one breakfast burrito, get one free bucket of snow.”
So yes, the storm hit.
You may recall my posts at the beginning of winter mentioning my lack of excitement about snow. This weekend I felt the same way. I didn’t have a desire to put on my snow shoes and explore the cold. Instead, I stayed inside and had a very lazy yet productive weekend (an oxymoron, I know).
Although I didn’t feel exited about the snow, I felt a huge appreciation for it. The piles of white outside gave me an excuse to catch up on life–to relax, to paint a bedroom, to read a book. It also prompted me of the changing of seasons.
If this is perhaps the last snowfall of the season, I am taking this snow as a reminder that there is so much to come. That spring and summer bring new life, and big changes.
These seasons signify the literal calendar season, yet they also symbolize seasons in my life. As of this week, I will be half way done with graduate school. I will be roughly six weeks out from a wedding, and I am also about exactly one year out from when my health was at its worst. I will keep taking strides to conquer my fibromyalgia symptoms, I will continue to flourish in school, and I will work on becoming the best partner I can be to the man who will soon be my husband.
The seasons are changing.
Life is changing, yet it is also staying the same.
And with the changes of seasons, I feel motivated to challenge myself to better the things that remain the same.
This season, I will do better. I will be better. I will live better.
Thank you to the snow for reminding me what a change of season can mean, and can do.