I’m not 100% certain what the official snowfall total was for our area. Certainly less than the 3 feet seen by some places in Connecticut. I think we got between 20 and 24 inches of snow. Now, don’t get me wrong, that’s a lot of snow for one storm. But when I look outside my window it all seems so… right. This is Maine, after all. And this is winter. So we’re supposed to have snow on the ground. The odd thing to me, is that the snow we just got, is the only snow on the ground.
We fully expected to lose power, and we were completely prepared for that. But we are so very thankful that we didn’t. It’s so much nicer to watch a blizzard when your lights are on and your toilet flushes. (I can handle not having lights, but toilets that don’t flush, that’s another story. Maybe I was scarred a bit when we lost power for 2 days only 1 day after Silas was born. Flushing was a luxury I was desperate for, and lifting the 5 gallon bucket to fill the toilet 24 hours after giving birth is off limits, but my pride insisted on taking care of things myself. But you really didn’t need to know that.)
But this storm, oh, this one was perfect in it’s peacefulness. Because power never went out, my husband wasn’t called in to work. We just sat and watched the snow fall. And we made popcorn, and watched the snow fall. And I knitted, and watched the snow fall. And we played games, and watched the snow fall. It was, I think, exactly what we’re supposed to do sometimes. Taking time out from the very busy schedules we make for ourselves. 
Maybe because we don’t know how to stop on our own and pause, God sends us a reason every now and then. 
After the storm, then sun dawned bright and even more glorious than usual. 
Maybe it was because of the reflection on all the pristine, glittery white with the brilliant blue sky as the backdrop. Maybe it was because the intensity of the storm made us appreciate the brightness of the light so much more. Whatever it was, it seems to me that everyone steps out a little more gingerly than before. 
Taking extra time to add extra layers. 
Setting about the work to be done to shovel out.
Focusing on the task at hand instead of on a myriad of details that really aren’t important.
Greeting the world a little at a time instead of all at once. 
Perhaps this is the rhythm of winter that we’re missing. This bit of hibernation that gives us a chance to reset. The news headlines said the storm paralyzed New England. From my point of view, I think it refreshed us.