Monday, February 15, 2021

The Freezing Rain

Snow is magic silent softness. But do we appreciate the static brittle hiss of sleet, the pork fat crackle of ice on ice? 

We do not, because it inconveniences us.  It impedes our rushing about, our importance. It makes the world uncertain under our feet.  We flounder about upon it, moving with all the grace of a beached seal, like children who have only just learned to walk.  Our lights flicker, our great machines slide to a crunching terrible halt.  

We despise it.  It makes us feel weak, like fools, like we are powerless tiny creatures who are not the center of all of God's work.

We despise it, because it does not exist for us.  It is God's work without us, the way of creation, and we are not its purpose.