By the skin of my teeth, I missed getting caught in a blizzard this morning. It started as a quiet winter day, and then—in the blink of an eye—everything changed.
When I got to work, the skies were clear—or at least I think they were. I didn’t look up.
It was Midwest windy, the kind that makes it hard to open your door and then slams it shut behind you. Nothing that suggested what was about to happen.
No sooner than I could remove my coat, the temperature dropped, fog appeared, and everything changed.
I watched from my window as it went from a few flakes to blinding white, no visibility at all. Just enough time to think, well, that was fast.
Snow Squall — What Is That?
Just as fast as it came—it stopped, leaving us with an inch or two as a reminder.
Things went back to normal—somewhat. It’s January; cold and snow are familiar, but this one felt different. Nature has a way of reminding us who’s in charge.
As I look out the window now, it’s one of those moments where you can’t quite tell if it’s really snowing or blowing. Everything looks like it’s glowing a little more than usual.
With all of that behind me, work is quiet. My thoughts are quiet. And for once, the calm didn’t disappear. The squall was a strong force—but not enough to disturb my peace.
It feels like a quiet winter day—one that doesn’t ask for anything more than presence.
I’m letting today be what it is—unrushed, unbothered, and remarkably peaceful.
dragonflies & honey
