The snow falls, each flake in its appropriate place. ~ Zen proverb ~

That’s what it feels like. A beautifully bewitching soundless shelter, muffled voices and cars and barking dogs. Silence. It’s like living in my very own Chanel snow globe. (Of course, the reality might be that my 102 degree fever from the flu is making me a bit crazy. On that subject, I used to have this very special blanket that would make me feel 100% better when I was sick and I really miss it. Sad.)

But here I am in the snow. SNOW!!!!

The Japanese have a word for the sound of snow falling.

It’s shinshin (say sheensheen). The word “shin” means silence or, more accurately, the absence of sound where there was sound before.

So “shinshin” is more of a feeling than anything else, a protective blanket of silence. The enchanting sound of silence.

Physicists say humans cannot hear falling snow; the pitch is too high. Wolves and bats can, which might explain why right before a snowfall they seem to disappear into shelter. 

And then more and more and more snow, covering cars and houses and the streets and trees. So clean and fresh, like white sparkly frosting on everything.

It’s been years and years since I woke up to the magic of a snow-covered world.

I stepped out into the pure and awesome whiteness of it, snowflakes settling gently on my face and hair, and I recall the wondrous and extraordinary exquisiteness of being alive. It made me want to twirl around and around with outstretched arms, at one with the cosmos. (I did.)

Snow was falling,
so much like stars
filling the dark trees
that one could easily imagine
its reason for being was nothing more
than prettiness
MARY OLIVER, “Snowy Night”, What Do We Know: Poems and Prose Poems

I took video of the gigantic snowflakes but my free WP account doesn’t allow vid uploads, so I hope these pics capture the glory.

PS If anyone wants to gift me that Chanel snowglobe, it really exists. Google it.