Emily Vaughan
Sleep slowly fades from my eyes. I hear the low hum of my essential oil diffuser, misting the room with the scent of lavender. Somehow, I muster up the strength to climb out of bed and make my way to the icy windowpane, only to see my neighborhood blanketed in snow. “Damn it”.
As I head down the stairs to my kitchen, I curse my lazy roommates in my head, knowing I’m the only one who will shovel in our house of four.
Brewing my coffee, I go through a mental list in my head of all the things I need to get done today: class, homework, work, more homework, and somehow find time to eat, sleep, watch Netflix and more importantly spend time with my loved ones. I take a deep breath to calm myself, with that breath inhaling the warm scent of freshly brewed coffee.
After bundling up in my long parka, hand woven scarf and pom-pom hat, I grab my shovel and head out into the frozen tundra that is my front yard. I pause. As inconvenient as the snow is, there is incredible beauty in the eerie, quiet it brings to the neighborhood. All that had been running through my head slows down and I am just left with this moment, and I am calm.
In a split second my awe disappears and I snap back into reality with the sound of the garbage screeching to a halt in front of my neighbor’s house. The hustle and bustle of my morning resumes as I continue to plow the snow out of my way.