The Snow Settles In

Perhaps it has been snowing 

where you are this weekend.

Snow has scattered over parts 

of the Southeastern District of the LCMS.

That includes: 

Maryland, Delaware, District of Colombia,

Virginia, and North and South Carolina.

Natalie Grace Hartwig shares some thoughts 

about country snow and city snow in the poem here.

Email photos of your snowy view to Connie at:

condoit@aol.com 

and we will add your photos to this post.

Old Snow

Old snow in the country side

Slips slowly, silently into soil.

It needs no drain. It leaves no passing trace.

                                                Not so old city snow,

                                                Painfully rotting into sharp shards

                                                Anchored on oil slicked scum, absorbing forever qualities.

Old country snow is fragile.

Kitten treads crush it to mush.

Children mourn its passing

                                                Old city snow becomes concrete.

                                                Tar topped, attaining, in late winter,

                                                A permanent place in the city scape.

Old country snow, sculpted with care,

Is soothed into luge slopes.

Weeping for lost fun, it vanishes with sure rapidity.

                                                Old city snow, like fur-balls and dust bunnies,

                                                Renews itself each night,

                                                Resisting solar efforts to clear it from our sight.

Old country snow is sought out and patted

By snow soaked, wet wool mittened hands,

Into perfect spheres of flying fun.

                                                Old city snow won’t do for snow balls or forts or fantasy.

                                                Glacier like, it trips up slick soled flying feet.

                                                It slices un-gloved hands flung out to brace a fall.

Old country snow is surveyed

For pristine, game ready squares

Where eager boots trace fanciful patterns that hide no corner cutting.

                                                Old city snow needs must be shoveled, chiseled,

                                                Scraped into oblivion. And still, the ghostly presence lingers

                                                In salty shadows and gravel graves.

Old country snow, of blessed memory,

Like snow-cream lingers, preserved with love

Protected by angels for generations yet to come.

                                                Old city snow, like frozen smog,

The residue of joylessness,

                                                Is with us still.

© Natalie Grace, March 2000

Natalie wrote his several years ago when a heavy snow

 in the mountains was taking its own sweet time melting. 

The difference between old snow in the country side 

and old snow in the city scape was just too much to endure. 

We know that snow doesn't stay around long in our areas 

and you might find this description fits where YOU ARE.