King of the Hill.

Pajama Hike.

Donuts in the Woods.

Sometimes it is in the waiting, that the ordinary and expected are graciously transformed into the memorable and treasured.

In this part of the country we have been without snow. Sure we’ve been teased with the whimsical dance of snowflakes that hover. Witnessed skies that howl with the promise of winter’s fury. But still, we find ourselves waiting. Waiting for winter’s first appreciable snowfall.

No snowmen have been built. No snowforts have been defended. No snowballs thrown. Somehow I find myself wanting snow. Lots of snow.

I know. Crazy talk. And from a midwest gal–a Chicagoan. Dreams of tropical umbrella drinks, crashing waves and white sand beaches should be dancing in my head this late in the winter. Yet, I wish for snow. Just one large snow storm.

Then this morning it begins. Snow falls. Gently. Modestly. Quietly collecting on rooftops, branches and walkways. It comes and it goes. Without pomp and without circumstance, the wait is over.

My boys scramble to find their boots and winter gear wanting to clear the scant covering of white from the drive before they head off to school. And I am beautifully reminded that the season of wait sometimes is a gift by design.

© suebthefoodie.com, 2011-2013.

Photos by suebthefoodie.