I am not one to favor the sun when snow falls. In my mind, the picturesque snow-white landscape involves a perfectly gray sky that steps aside to lend the spotlight to the purity that falls from it. The sun slips behind the clouds to allow the viewer to grasp that delicate, scintillating snow, and the lustrous substance ignites to fill the vista with a soft glow. Listening to the snow fall on such occasion is truly divine. What a pity it is to witness the snow transform into a hazard that is to be stepped around and avoided once the clouds part and the sun restores the sky to that brilliant blue! The light from a fully exposed sun yields a reflection from the snow that is simply too harsh to enjoy, and the innate desire one has to stop and gaze at the scene departs almost immediately.

A moment from today flickers in my memory as one that remains a very rare exception. I was in my backyard, playing with Roo, waiting for him to finish his business so as to spare my rugs. The house cast a massive square shadow on about 3/4^ths of the yard, and an L-shaped fragment of brilliant light sat silently to the right of it. The sun beat down mercilessly, summoning an almost abrasive reflection. For some reason, perhaps it was that certain time of day combined with the particular backdrop, it was absolutely breathtaking. The brilliant white of the snow blazed gloriously, and burnt on even more so when juxtaposed with the damp shadow of the house. Roo moved through the deep snow as if he were swimming, hopping about happily in this visage of unforeseen beauty.

I observed this curiously but gladly, and continued to watch my darling puppy frolic about in the powder that encircled him. I let my mind wander to the pursuit of training Roo, an endeavor that has dominated my thoughts whenever I am with the little canine. He meandered about the yard, sniffing at the brick wall and snuffling around in the snow, and I wondered exactly what the alfa male in any given pack does when the rest of the pack is playing. Surely he doesn’t simply stand and wait for the other dogs to finish satisfying their curiosity. I came to the well calculated conclusion that the head of the pack probably snuffs about aimlessly as well.

But I wasn’t interested in the snow or the brick walls of the yard, and I didn’t care to trot about in search of something to occupy my time. I wondered why this is; we are animals as well, captivated easily by any object during youth. I glanced around me and paused momentarily before walking over to the wall to inspect the ivy that climbed up it. I instinctively reached out and grasped the snow-covered spine of ivy, encircling the leaves with my hand and feeling the cold greenery. The snow began to melt, leaving the ivy watery and dripping, shining in the wake of the brilliant sun above. The sight was enticing; the crisply green leaves returned the white light in such a manner that one simply could not look away. I gaped at the sight, wondering when the mystique of light will finally cease to enchant me.

I was drawn from my silly reverie by a snowball, launched from daddy who stood across the yard. He had thrown one before that had gone completely unnoticed, and smiled to see my captivation, telling me it was time to go pick up mum and Rick. I beamed at him, glancing back once more at the palatial spectacle I would have missed had I not been willing to mindlessly look to the doubtful in order to see it.