…the weight of which breaks off the branches of the flowering magnolia tree which has stood in front of your town’s bank for the last one hundred years or so, you…
Well, there really is no “make lemonade from lemons” parallel to snow. When you see ancient magnolia trees broken by an excess of winter, nothing good comes to mind. At this point – multiple snow storms into this thing – the power of positive thinking just isn’t doing it for you anymore, and all you feel a sort of wintertime rage at the injustice imposed on nature, by nature (especially as a metaphor for yourself of course). By January, we are all that pathetic broken magnolia branch, if you will.
Hyperbole aside, you could take a more measured approach to the indignities of the season. Like our friend did (who just happens to be the visual mastermind behind Kalmia Design). Disappointed as he was to see the promise of those magnolia tree branches destroyed, he saw opportunity in the situation, picking up the broken branch from the detritus, understanding that the requisite four, or more, weeks of waiting for the buds to unfurl would pay major dividends, with the value of the experience increasing in direct proportion to the depth of the snow outside.
We stopped by our friend’s house last weekend, and to walk in and see the results of such foresight was so unexpected that it felt almost like a shock: the loveliest of moments, a respite of deep pink in the cold white heart of a New England winter.