The stories snow shadows whisper


Looks like a skyscraper of snow shadows!

When the sun peeks through the January sky and illuminates the forest, the snow shadows present themselves. 

Ahhh, what beautiful shadows exist upon the snow!  

The darkened shadow of Things Which Exist gleams blue on the white carpeting of snow.  The shadows tell stories.  You could sit for one hundred years and never hear the end of the tales told by shadows.  

Are the shadows confused?

Shadows speak the opposite language of trees and buildings and plants and people.  They whisper what is never spoken aloud.  They tell of things not seen.  Things not heard.  Things never imagined. 

They hint of paths not chosen, paths not walked.  They hint of everything not included overtly in the obvious. 

Sometimes shadows and footprints dance together.  Perhaps a squirrel scampers across snow, tiny feet barely imprinting the drifts.  Perhaps a man or woman ambles between light and dark, one foot in shadow, the other in sunlight.  Who can say which is better?  The shadow simply teaches different lessons than the sun. 

Prickly burdock shadows.

Oh yes, shadows sometimes teach prickly lessons.  Sticky icky burdock lessons.  Some people divide the world between darkness and light and frown mightily at shadows.  Heck, I’m sure we’ve all frowned mightily at shadows during different afternoons of our lives.  Maybe we’ve even cursed them.  But usually the shadows simply end up revealing a depth in the light we never saw before. 

Carl Jung introduced the term “the shadow” to explain everything in us that is repressed, denied,underdeveloped or unconscious.  Much potential exists lurking in the shadow.  Meeting with these unknown aspects of ourselves becomes a path on the journey of self-awareness.   

While trees and humans may not even realize another part of ourselves projects unto the snow, we might wake some day from a dream and notice an underworld of latent possibility, more aspects of ourselves than we ever imagined. 

Yep. Shadows at cross purposes.

Learning about the fullness of ourselves, dancing with it, may even open doors to creativity and adventure.  You never know! 

I hope many of you find the opportunity to learn from snow shadows this winter.  If not, “normal” shadows will do.  Notice the sidewalks, the roads, the lawns.  Shadows abound. 

Waiting for a willing listener.  Waiting to share their secrets.

About Kathy

I live in the middle of the woods in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Next to Lake Superior's cold shores. I love to blog.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

17 Responses to The stories snow shadows whisper

  1. More loquacious than snow runes, but related.

    • Kathy says:

      You know, Carla, I thought about just posting the snow shadow photos and letting them speak for themselves. Because your snow runes did so in such a simple and eloquent way!

  2. Deborah says:


    I am so happy you decided to keep writing your Nature blogs. I immediately head out the door in my mind, when I read them. I shall notice the snow shadows, next time we have snow, what we did have has pretty much melted.

    My favorite physical world shadows are bare branches on the ground in the forest in darkness, illuminated by a full moon. No need for a headlight to walk in winter with a good moon.

    The other human shadows, I am beginning to more fully appreciate, the role of. We should bless them, for they open the way, for growth at the least, or for change of some sort when we’d rather not budge. Usually, I’m not able to see the blessing they bring, until the unfolding is complete.

    I’ll be back, surely –

    • Kathy says:

      Deb, thank you for stopping by this new outdoor blog. I always smile to see you here. I had not thought of shadows illuminated during the full moon. How beautiful they are. I am just not…usually…awake to enjoy that beauty.

      You are so right about the blessings and gifts of shadows. They do help us move when we’d rather not budge. Thanks for that insight and wisdom!

  3. CG Walters says:

    beautiful, Kathy.
    continued blessings…and stay warm!

    • Kathy says:

      Hi dear CG. Thinking about your Carolina mountains right now and dreaming of a walk in them someday. It was kind of cold down there last week wasn’t it? Today it’s pretty warm here, just above freezing. I feel wrapped in the warmth of your words and presence.

  4. Cindy Lou says:

    I agree with Deborah – if it weren’t for the shadows we all walk through in our lives, we wouldn’t appreciate the sunshine near as much. When I think of all I’ve learned about myself and my relationships with others through the process of my recovery from alcoholism, it has turned out to be a blessing despite the darkness of the shadows.

  5. Susan D says:

    What they said 🙂


    • Kathy says:

      Hi Susan D. Yep, lots of words of wisdom here today. I love how writing a blog brings out so very many words of wisdom in the comments. It’s one of the best parts of sharing on-line! Hugssss to you my dear.

  6. Jennifer says:

    Exactly what I needed to read and see after being in a room without windows between sunrise and sunset for most of the day. [They were lovely dawn and dusks:)]

    • Kathy says:

      Jennifer, so glad you enjoyed the snow shadows. They were so beautiful! I hope you get to enjoy some this upcoming weekend. If not…the dawns and dusks are good…

  7. Quietpaths says:

    I used to visit MI quite often because my friend lived there and your shadow pictures have brought it all back to me – the walks in the woods, the snow, the trees. Wonderful. And thank you.

  8. Quietpaths says:

    That would be lovely.

Thank you for reading. May you be blessed in your life...may you find joy in the simple things...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s