Snow...

What could this snow mean? Perhaps it means nothing more than just that. Winter has come a bit early this year. I feel asleep last night at around 6 o' clock. It was just supposed to be a nap before dinner. But apparently, my body (or mind--or spirit) really needed that rest. I just woke up from this extended sleep, and saw some white resting casually upon the still-orange deciduous leaves, looked out the window and saw the picnic table below lambein covered in a perfect sheet of snow. What could this mean? Could this mean that I've begun or am in the process of being purified? And that in this purification, there will be a dark night of the soul, so to speak? And that afterwards, wholly unexpected, will come untouched beauty? not cold or rigid beauty--not some beauty that I've created? But beauty falling out of the sky--or, in this case, rushing into me slowly, steadily, chilling away any unruly and excess heat or passion--rushing into me like the Spirit, like the wind, like the snowflakes carried upon the wind? Like the patterns of snowflakes we're never quite allowed to see, except under the crucial examination of a microscope.