Someone asked me today if it was snowing where I was. Where I was, was in my church office in Bethlehem.It is really difficult for me to tell if snow or rain is falling. At least rain, I can hear. The little bit of remaining vision I have is blurry 24-7 and light-dependent on what I am able to or unable to discern in front of me, beside me, or around me. I do miss seeing snow falI – I miss seeing the kind of snow that falls gently and quietly in tiny crystals to the ground…I miss seeing the kind of snow that comes down in a hurried flurry: huge flakes dancing to the tango (it seems) as they make their way to the ground, eventually impatient for children to make snow angels in the inches that piled up.
However, I can feel the snowflakes against my cheek. They are cold and wet. Refreshing. Once the snow stops, if I walk to the woodline, I can tell how the snow is cradled inside the branches of the trees or if I walk close to the pine trees, I can glimpse the snow sleeping on their branches. While we have our eyes on spring in the midst of winter, I find these discoveries – though not seen perfectly clear – still to be beautiful.
Unfortunately, the optic nerve damage that has occurred will never recover. Yet I am continually amazed at all the new ways I am able to experience ‘old’ things. It could be so much worse. Thanks be to God.