Nana provides us all with chapels of our own – for every religion, faith and creed.

Storms don’t usually disappear overnight.

I was reminded of this at dawn today as I wandered the nearby foothills to witness the aftermath of yesterday’s blizzard.

Instead of the sight of a snow-covered landscape glowing in a warm dawn’s light, I found myself in the middle of a snow-covered landscape shivering in the grey light of storm clouds that were hesitant to move on…

But as I struggled through the deep snow, muttering to myself and dreaming of a hot cup of coffee, I came to realize that much of life is spent waiting for storms to pass – and if you focus only on the future clearing skies, you miss out on what the present has to offer.

So even if all it has to offer is blowing winds, snow down your boots and wet socks – these things still mean that you’re alive in this world.

And being alive makes waiting for a storm to pass well worth it.

Today a massive blizzard struck the Rocky Mountains, and trapped most of us indoors to wait out the worst of it.

I found it a good time to make a big batch of homemade bean & ham soup, start a nice fire in the fireplace, and catch up on some reading.

Yet I kept finding myself drawn to the windows to watch the storm raging outside. The tree limbs swaying in the wind – their dark shapes making amazing patterns against the waves of blowing snow.

Nana offers small gifts in even the worst conditions.

One of the things that attracts me to the mountains is that they strip life down to basics.

Mountains have no subtle or hidden messages – they are just there.
You feel their presence deep in your gut when you wander their valleys, ridges and crags.

And sometimes getting away from life’s clutter is just what you need.

A chilly winter morning can turn even an ordinary window pane into an abstract work of art.

Look for the beauty hidden all around you.

Nana’s simplest songs have the power to change the world.

It was a cold, grey evening as I eagerly tromped down the trail towards home.

The hike had not turned out as planned.

Instead of a joyous, sunlit day amongst pines covered with fresh-fallen snow, it had turned into a dreary trudge through cloudy silence and damp cold.

But as I approached the forest’s edge, a lone chickadee began its lilting tune.

I couldn’t catch a glimpse of this tiny musician hidden within the snow-covered trees, but its bright song pierced the chill and overcame the drab surroundings.

In that moment, this thumb-sized little bird’s song changed my memory of the entire day.

Instead of the day where I froze my fingers and toes hiking along a dreary, grey trail – it was transformed into the day when a cheerful chickadee gave me a gift of song at dusk.

Simple songs can change the world.

We seek clarity and focus as a new year dawns.

Unfortunately we’re all too often presented with the same blurry outlines and blowing winds that the previous year ended on.

Our challenge is to not become too discouraged about this lack of instant clarity – and to instead use the coming of a new year as a chance to stop, catch our breath, and take a closer look at our surroundings for the bits of our world that do come into focus, once we take the time to look.

Even swirling snow clouds part long enough to catch an occasional glimpse of the path ahead.

The rewards of exploring are worth the frozen fingers and toes.

Seeing the forest for the trees is good – but why not climb a bit further and see the mountains.

Sometimes it’s OK to experience Nana’s wonders without actually venturing forth into them.

or at least that’s what I convinced myself this morning after a snowstorm blew in overnight…