The trees blanketed by the first snowfall were beautiful.  It was a “dusting” but nevertheless breathtaking.  It made me glad to be alive.  I was heading for church in the morning.  Everything–the ground, bushes and trees were completely covered with white.  I would be glad when winter would be over and the warm weather returned but I really was in no rush.  It was a brisk thirty-two degrees outside.  And everything was white, a sight my brother-in-law would never see, who lived in San Francisco.  In a few hours the snow would melt.  The morning truly was a “miracle”.