We had a major snowfall in the Midwest over the weekend. Saturday was a cozy, “inside” day, watching the snow fall like powdered sugar gently sifted over white frosting. Yesterday was an “outside” day, cleaning off the cars, clearing away the snow, and trying to beat the falling temperatures (always a challenge in the Midwest, as snow is so often followed by a blast of Arctic air).

A nice time for seeing the neighbors, as well, for all of us were outside doing the same thing. One of our neighbors has a remarkably powerful snowblower, so he was kind enough to clear the base of our driveway (snow plows had been down our street and blocked us in; if you live in a cold, snowy place, you know what I mean!). He also took care of our other neighbors’ drive, as they were out of town, due home Sunday night, and would have had nowhere to pull in after their long trip home.

Anyway, this morning on the drive to work, I noticed these streetlights for the first time ever in 30+ years. They are in a historic neighborhood just to our east, and they are quite different from the streetlights everywhere else in my inner-ring Milwaukee suburb. If they hadn’t been lit, making them stand out against the snowy branches, I doubt I’d have seen them even today. Don’t they remind you of Narnia? All we need is Mr. Tumnus.

Isn’t it funny how a small-ish change (in this case, snow-covered tree branches and streetlights lit past their normal time, probably because it was so overcast) causes you to take note of things that were there all along?