Sound of Surviving Blog

I love the snow. The few days when we get a lot of snow where I live are always my favorite. I love the beauty of how the sun hits the white, frosty trees, spotlighting them. I would love to go out and play with my dog, or my nephew in it, but it’s not really feasible for someone like me. I can’t wear boots because ever since my stroke, I can’t bend my left ankle into them. Even just the thought of putting on a coat or gloves and a hat to stay warm is exhausting, not to mention that I don’t have the best balance as it is, let alone trying to walk through snow or ice. But even though I don’t get to fully experience the snow, I try my best not to let its true beauty and wonder slip through my hands untouched. So instead, I sit in its warmth by the bright window and read my book, and I take the best photos I can while being inside, angling them just right, to capture the wintery utopia the snow makes. Just because I don’t get to enjoy it in the same ways as everyone else, doesn’t mean that I can’t fully appreciate it. I get to relish the peace that snow brings, the quiet beauty of nature that often is invisible to the ordinary eye. I get to experience the magic that my nephew sees through the look in his eyes in the pictures my sister-in-law sends, and the amusement that my dog gets from the snow as I watch her wildly run through it. So while I may never again get to fully experience snow the way able-bodied people do, I get to hold onto the wonder and the magic it brings that they often glimpse past. And I will forever thank God, that he has given me the ability to see his glorious creation as I do, even if my vision isn’t what the world thinks it should be.