Pausing as I step out of the front door, looking up through the barren trees, the cerulean blue of the morning sky peeks at me. The word “cerulean” is derived from the Latin caelum, meaning heaven. Upon crisp mornings like this, it is heaven I am viewing for sure. The long, harsh winter is slowly losing its grip on us. Patches of the promise of spring can be seen through the snow as the earth awakens from its slumber. There is no doubt that the spring in my morning step these days is due to the earlier dawning of the morning light. Soon the yellow of the forsythias will pop from the gray of its winter bark, further adding delight to the ride to the city.

The large meadows at the bottom of the hill I drive down every day as I approach the intersection with Knights Road are a haven for deer most of the year. It is wise to slow down here, which has become my custom. Being covered with snow, as these fields still are, deer are a rare sight this time of year. What does appear gives me cause to pull over to watch an event that only now is visible in the morning light.

The whipping westward wind sweeps over the nearby foothills sailing over the open meadows unabated till the distant embankment abruptly turns the gusts around. The forces of nature are creating an amazing ballet of whirlwinds rising from the snow. These snow devils dance on stage right before my eyes. Their conical appendages rise 20 feet into the air, pirouetting on a cloud of white so fine the rising sun sparkles off each immaculate flake. Twin ballerinas bow and nod to each other, bending to-and-fro, disappearing only to reappear again at opposite ends of the stage. A rare third devil appears, obviously the foil in this drama, as the twins whisk away not to appear again. The rising sun has calmed the winds for now. The snow devil spectacle ceases as quickly as it started.

This audience of one sits bewildered, stunned, waiting for an encore, but there will be no encore this day. The dancers are in their dressing rooms, the frost lies silently still once more. The applause is for my own satisfaction. Realizing this impromptu performance is a whim of nature, I sit hoping for it to rise up once again, and in doing so have missed my second train of the morning. Slowly pulling back onto CR 31, while spying through my rear view mirrors, teasing myself that I may miss something, I am on my way again. Mother Nature is truly amazing in all she has to offer, if only we take the time to slow down and open our eyes.

Meandering through Hawk’s Nest, I am smiling to myself at how lucky I was to have this experience. I can imagine that during the dark days of winter this performance must play out on a regular basis, only to be seen by the stars in the heavens above. As much as I look forward to the snow leaving, I hope to catch another morning light performance during the early days of spring. This fickle time of year, a snow storm can fray the nerves, but I will be hoping to catch the snow devils dancing.