Beneath the Olive Sky

On a snowy night, I hesitated to leave the comfort of my warm home. The cold outside mixed with windy snowfall seemed much more intense than the stillness of my room. We only needed one thing from the store, a quick little errand that felt like a major inconvenience, but as often happens, this single task led us out into the frigid world. Originally, we planned to go farther down the road to a bigger store. But as we neared the stop sign, the bright neon blue lights of a smaller, nearby store caught my eye. It was closer–and cheaper. Something about that light, so present against the darkened sky, drew me in, abandoning the original plans.

The store was quiet when we entered, shelves lit brightly, and we grabbed what we needed quickly, eager to return to the warmth of our home. Stepping back into the night air, I felt the chill immediately creep up through my jacket. Snowflakes still fell beautifully from the sky, catching the glow from the neon blue lights just above them, the wind greeting me with a slap. I zip my jacket up tighter because, as I mentioned earlier, the cold and I aren’t friends. Just as I zipped my jacket up to my neck I looked up. And that's when I saw it.

The sky had shifted into an unexpected shade of olive green, I had never seen the sky such a beautiful color. So prominent and poised in beauty. I stood there frozen for a moment taking in the perfection the sky was offering me in that very moment, I have always had a love for the night sky but I have never seen her like this. It was magical. I am unsure if it was the neon lights that caused the sky to glow in such a way, or if it was the city’s light pollution, or just Mother Earth’s true beauty, but it was breathtaking. There, amid the falling snow and the stillness of the world, I felt this deep sense of awe. This feeling had me taking out my phone to try to capture this moment in stillness and I got the perfect photo from it.

This picture was captured with a profound love for nature, a love that was created from not the grandest of grand, but from moments like these–moments that often pass unnoticed. The falling snowflakes represent the swift passage of time, a constant reminder of how rarely we pause to truly appreciate the gifts that Mother Earth provides for us every night. Snow, in particular, can feel like an interruption–a nuisance that blankets everything in cold, white silence. I’ve always dreaded the cold and snow itself, resenting the way it shuts me and the world down in the blink of an eye. Forcing us to slow down and take accountability for not only ourselves but others around us in ways we aren't familiar with or accustomed to. But in this moment I stood there, ignoring the frigid weather that I was so afraid of in the first place, and I let the snow fall on me with no complaint. I've never had this connection with snow, with winter, but this day allowed me to see winter as this beautiful gift that we take for granted every single year. It's a beauty that most look past because we are too excited for summer and warmer weather but we never stop to see what winter allows, and what that is, it's patience. Patience with the world, patience with the next season, patience with people.

The tree in the foreground, a solitary silhouette against the pale snow, mirrors the solitude we often feel in the rush of our daily lives. Its bare branches reach up towards the sky as if it is yearning for some sort of connection. It stands alone, quietly witnessing the world unfolding around it. I think about how often we, too, feel isolated in the hustle of our lives–caught in the currents of time and disconnected from everything and everyone around us.

But in the distance, the houses lined behind the tree feels like a comforting presence. Even though the snow has been blanketing the world with silence, those houses served as a reminder that we are never truly alone. No matter where we are, no matter how isolated we might feel, there are always others–people who care, who will help, who are just a few steps away, ready to offer support when we need it most. The snow might be separating us physically, but the warmth we feel from these homes–just out of sight–reminded me that we are all connected, even in solitude.

To me, this picture is absolutely breathtaking, and even though it isn't perfect there is so much I learned from just this one picture, about the world, and just about life in general.