There is just something about snow.

Something wondrous happened here in Ljubljana this Friday: it snowed, a lot and for the whole day! It wasn’t exactly the first snow of this winter, but it has been a very long time since Ljubljana has had so much snow – not only enough to make a small, nostalgic snowman, but enough that it fell over the city like a thick, soft, smothering white blanket and kept for several days.

All the statues in Ljubljana were suddenly wearing snow hats and the streets were not only lightly dusted or immediately full of grey, wet muck, but actually properly coated with crunchy fresh snow you could step into. Even though it caused massive traffic jams on the roads around the country, even the grumpiest of folks were willing to admit that it was worth it, and if they weren’t, well there’s no helping some people. The city centre was empty and all the hearts were full, because everyone was out shovelling their driveways and playing around in the snow like children or with their children.

There is just something about snow that softens all the harsh edges of modern life and even the perpetually grey cities are temporarily bleached pure and clean.

friday

Friday’s grey snowfall then gave way to two perfect, crisp sunny winter days and it was so beautiful that all of us crawled out of our warm, comfortable homes and into the bitter cold. The sky was a deep blue, the kind of blue that only happens when it is cold enough, and the river shone like polished steel instead of its usual brown-green. Everyone was out with their colourful scarves, hats and gloves, a pink flush in their cheeks and soft smiles and mischief alight in their eyes. There was a reverent hush over the city and the whole world suddenly felt smaller, simpler and kinder, despite the harshness of the cold freezing the expressions in place on my face.

There is just something about snow that brings out the true beauty of winter, like a blanket of gentle, comforting silence highlighting the mindfulness it takes to really appreciate life.

Saturday

It is no secret that I still always get excited for snow like I did when I was a child (see here or here when we built a mini snow castle on our terrace) and that it makes me miss living in the north of Sweden, but this year it felt as if the whole city shared my excitement and for once we were all breathing deeply in the moment. I know it is just temporary and that pretty soon all the streets will turn into a grey, slurry mess and everyone will complain about the inconvenience and forget about the beauty, but at least for a few days we all got to feel what winter is really about – slowing down, resting and rebirth.

There is just something about snow that feels like peace, forgiveness and new beginnings, as if nature itself is whispering in our ears that it is time to let the past go and that all will be well when the snow melts away.

Sunday

Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten,
forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold.

Let it be forgotten forever and ever,
time is a kind friend, he will make us old.

If anyone asks, say it was forgotten
long and long ago,
as a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall
in a long-forgotten snow.

Let it be forgotten – S. Teasdale