Like angels bending down to kiss me, the most magical snow fell late last night, Christmas night, giving this California girl her first white Christmas. Big, fluffy flakes as big as mice floated slowly out of the dark sky to cover everything, quiet everything. After a day of watching a pay-per-view movie (“Julie & Julia” – which was great, by the way), eating popcorn and feeling ever so slightly sorry for myself, this opulent snow, unexpected, unpredicted by any online weather service, swirled gracefully down to whisper, “Ah, all is well. All is beautiful. Shush now, shush now. No worries now.”

Wasting no time, I slipped my fluffy-sock shod feet into a pair of clogs, threw on my coat and hat, and bolted out into the snow. The silence, as if the air had thickened into unseen insulation, hit me first. Then, the beauty of white butterflies falling, twirling to the ground. I stomped into the fluffy white, listening to the sound of my steps as they crunched into the freshly fallen snow… a sound unlike any other.

When it snows late at night, the dark streets become completely white, blending into the sidewalks, curbs and meridians. Snow ploughs and cars haven’t yet had the chance to slash through the smooth, snowy cover. And the light from street lamps seems to sprinkle the snow with sparkles.

Even after going back inside, my hat and coat covered in white, I sat by my window, looking straight up into the sky, watching the slow dance of snow fall from the darkness. I wanted to save it, to capture it, to make it forever mine, this magical sight. This Christmas gift from the angels.

Shush now. Quiet your heart. All is well.