It Flings a Crystal Veil...

A line from one of my favorite authors, Emily Dickinson. Today was another snowy day. Living in New York you would think this would feel ordinary, but every time a snow storm finds its way to our city it has its own magic, wonder, and excitement. I woke up to my daughter sleepily gliding into my room excitedly whispering, "It's snowing, Mommy! It's snowing."

So, off to the window we went even though we have seen our snowy street many times. And there it was...






...beautiful as always. On days like these we make exceptions to our school schedule. So, we packed up some books and the camera and headed out on our streets to catch giant snowflakes, make slushy splashes and find a little cafe to enjoy hot cocoa, pastries and have reading class.











Later that afternoon we read a little Dickinson and while the snow was painting our streets we were painting our own interpretations of her poem about the wonder and beauty of snow...

It sifts from leaden sieves,

It powders all the wood,
It fills with alabaster wool
The wrinkles of the road.

It makes an even face
Of mountain and of plain,
Unbroken forehead from the east
Unto the east again.



It reaches to the fence,
It wraps it, rail by rail,
Till it is lost in fleeces;
It flings a crystal veil



On stump and stack and stem,
The summer's empty room,
Acres of seams where harvests were,
Recordless, but for them.


It ruffles wrists of posts,
And ankles of a queen,
Then stills its artisans like ghosts,
Denying they have been.