The Wintry Wood

There is a particular kind of quiet that only comes after a snowstorm, and Eureka Springs knows it well.

Over the weekend of January 23, 2026, as a massive winter storm blanketed the South and Midwest, that familiar Ozark stillness returned. Snow draped itself over Victorian rooftops and wrapped the winding streets like a soft exhale. Trees along Spring Street stood taller somehow, their branches etched in white, looking less like obstacles and more like guardians. In moments like this, Eureka doesn’t feel hidden away from the world. It feels like the world has finally slowed down enough to see her beauty in all her glory.

Snowmaggedon USA 2026 arrived with drama, as storms tend to do these days ... multiple warnings, updated forecasts, a state of emergency, and anxious glances at the sky.

"Eurekans, of course, do what we always do: we prepare, we check on neighbors, and then we watch."

Snow fell into the folds of the hills and collected in the curves of staircases that refuse to be straight. It softened the angles of the town, turning iron railings into delicate lines and brick paths into gentle suggestions.

I love weather events like this because the forest, our forest, becomes a wintry wood, equal parts fairy tale and fact. It's like our own, private Narnia.

There is something grounding about seeing the Ozarks blanketed in snow. The trees don’t disappear; they truly reveal themselves. You see their shape and structure and their stubborn persistence. Oaks, maples, and hickories stand bare and honest, their branches weave together like a community that has learned how to lean on one another.

This one was big, folks. It swept across most of the USA and brought record cold temps, crippling ice, thunder and lightning in some states and even tornadic activity for others, as well. Fortunately, for Eureka, it was just a dose of the white stuff and nothing more. It reminded us that nature does not negotiate. It arrives, it reshapes, it teaches. And our beloved Eureka Springs, clinging onto hills and carved by springs, has always understood that lesson.

We Got Them There Hills

A lot of different things can adjust life for Eurekans but it's freshly fallen snow that changes how the locals engage with their surroundings.

The usual hurry dissolves. You don’t rush down a steep sidewalk dusted with ice; you respect it. You place your feet carefully, you pause, you look around. In that pause, Eureka reveals its secret talent: it rewards attention.

A cardinal flashes red against the white. Smoke curls lazily from a chimney on the hill. The sound of footsteps crunching becomes the tempo of the day. The storm didn’t just bring snow; it brought permission to slow down, to stay in, and to linger over coffee a little longer while the world outside recalibrated.

The swath of this storm was utterly massive. It disrupted routines, closed roads, postponed plans. It reminded cities built on grids and speed that sometimes, you stop.

Eureka Springs has practiced this for years. Our streets curve because they must. Our staircases climb because the land demands it. When snow arrives, it doesn’t feel like an interruption so much as a deepening of what already exists. The town becomes even more mysterious in white silence. The wintry wood presses in close, and you realize how much of life here is shaped by listening to the land.

Inside, warmth takes on new meaning. It’s not just heat; it’s ritual. Soup simmering. Candles lit before dusk. Conversations that stretch because there’s nowhere else you need to be. Outside, the forest stands in quiet solidarity, trees bearing the weight of snow without complaint. There’s a lesson there, too ... about endurance, about grace under pressure. The massive storm reminded us that strength isn’t loud. Sometimes it looks like standing still and letting the moment pass over you.

...or, better yet, bundle up and get outside smack in the middle of it all.

Embrace the moment and gather up friends for some wintry fun! Grab the kayak, don the life jacket (to prevent a snow drowning, of course) and sled down hillsides. After all, this is Eureka Springs and "we got them there hills" why not use'm?

Fun!

With bigger colder, more frigid temperatures happening through the end of January, it's going to take a while for this beautiful white blanket to melt away, but as it does, Eureka Springs will cozy up, or kayak down and reemerge unchanged and yet ... utterly transformed.

The wintry wood will return to its dryer, warmer condition to prepare for the coming Spring but even as it retreats, its imprint remains in the way we move, the way we notice, the way we engage with our surroundings, and the way we choose to embrace life here.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, "Mother Nature is Eureka's most famous artist."❤️