Many moons (many, many, many……many, many moons) ago when I was nearing the end of my second decade, I worked as a receptionist for a talent manager who managed the likes of Pete Seeger, Arlo Guthrie, Mary Travers (of Peter, Paul and…) and other artists. I knew of Pete Seeger from the folk singing we did (it was that time in history, you see), and was in awe of his gentleness, his convictions-lived-outloud, and his intelligence. I still have a lot of his music and vinyl from those years. He is 88 now and still doing what he does so well… communicating through the power of music, advocating ecological responsibility, human fairness and awareness.

More and more mounds of snow keep falling. This is the wintryest winter I have had in a very long time. Each fresh coat of snow reminds me of a song he wrote called Snow, Snow:

Snow, snow, falling down;
Covering up my dirty old town.

Covers the garbage dump, covers the holes,
Covers the rich homes, and the poor souls,
Covers the station, covers the tracks,
Covers the footsteps of those who’ll not be back.

Covers the mailbox, the farm and the plow.
Even barbed wire seems — beautiful now.
Covers the station, covers the tracks.
Covers the footsteps of those who’ll not be back.

The haunting melody plays through my mind as I watch the snow drift down, putting a fresh coat of “clean” on the scenery. Dirty snow is depressing. Fresh snow is beautiful. It sparkles like diamond dust in the sunlight, and softens the stark landscape. Snow doesn’t discriminate between fancy streetlights and utilitarian ones. It frustrates the struggling commuters, and clogs back roads alike. The best you can do is admire it from INSIDE, preferably a warm “inside” with a book close to hand and an assortment of soft knitting to keep you occupied as you wait for spring to melt it all away.

We (the royal “we” — DH was driving) drove home last night in a swirling whiteness. We slowed to doing just barely the speed limit, accommodating the travel conditions. By this morning’s commute the windshield reservoirs were empty. It was another kind of “whiteout” condition created by not being able to see through the windshield because road spray destroyed visibility.

Unfortunately, I still have to go into an office, even if DH does not. Until I receive permission to remove the boot for driving, DH is still playing chauffeur.

I’ll be humming Pete Seeger’s song this weekend as well. Another snowfall is scheduled to freshen up the landscape with a new 4-6″ layer of white fluffy.

I have lots of soft yarn and new books at hand, fresh music and music remembered to entertain me. The new snow won’t arrive until I am back home from work Friday evening. It’ll be a good weekend. Maybe I’ll even (finally!) create a snow something over the the weekend…