Can anyone remember the last Tuesday when they didn’t predict the snow storm of the century?

Winter in Merrick can be a beautiful time, if you stop to taste the snowflakes.  When was the last time you looked up at the sky, let the flakes tickle your cheeks as you open your mouth wide and catch some snowflakes?  When was the last time you just sat on your living couch, and watched the softly fallen snow paint your evergreens with white blankets, turning your suburban yard into a Currier and Ives painting?

There’s something about a snow day that turns every adult into a 12-year-old.  You wake up early and look out the window to decide if it’s too deep to go to work.  You peer through your blinds to see if your street is plowed.  You look at your car and wonder if you’ll be able to dig yourself out.  Then, you put on Channel 12 and listen to the weatherman tell you how treacherous it is out.  He warns you to avoid driving anywhere unless it is an absolute emergency.  And you cannot help but watch the bottom of the screen because somewhere in the back of your head, you are 12 years old again and you look to see if your school district scrolls across the bottom of the screen. 

“North Merrick School District – Closed,” you announce and somehow that justifies a snow day – even if your children moved out years ago.  And you think, “Today I will do all the things around the house that that you normally don’t have a chance to do.”  You go back under the covers and vegg-out.  And so begins your snow day.

For me, it’s time to rejuvenate, daydream and allow the quiet sound of snow fall quiet the stress in your life and whisper spirituality into your soul.  Days like these are rare and should be cherished. Days like these rejuvenate the soul, clear the mind and allow creativity to flow. Days like these allow you to be one with nature in its most pristine form: freshly virgin snow.

But as others travel south, I, as crazy it may sound to some people, went upstate to experience a “real winter.”  I found my Adirondack home buried in three feet of snow. Even for Adirondack standards, it was a lot of snow for this early in the season. Too deep to snowmobile, too deep to walk on the lake and too deep to open our porch door. But it was also too beautiful for words.

Life in the Adirondacks is harsh in the winter. We saw a man using a back hoe to get the snow off his roof. My husband went out on our porch roof with a shovel to do the same thing. Roofs caving in is a commonplace occurrence and a very real fear by most homeowners upstate.

It kind of puts things in perspective. When I came home, I noticed the streets were clear, the roofs had no snow on them and I could actually take off my boots and put on my sneakers. I was saddened by the stark differences in environments. 

It’s only the beginning of February and I’m not quite “wintered out.”  Even though we’ve had an almost weekly snow storm in Merrick, the prediction of rain seemed dark and dreary compared with the winter wonderland that I just returned from.  It’s true that snow storms on Long Island often makes traffic difficult, but it never occurred to me to shovel my roof. 

We should count our blessings that winters in Merrick may  be a minor inconvenience to some of us and maybe a major obstacle for others, but it’s winter and should be a time when we take advantage of this slow period in our lives.  It is a great time to sit back and reflect on our lives, plan for your future and just take time to stop and taste the snowflakes.   

Claudia Borecky is an unpaid, opinion columnist for Merrick Patch. If you have something to say, feel free to contact your hometown Patch for opportunities.