I pulled back the midnight curtains and was instantly blinded by a flurry of whiteness.
It’s the first real snowfall of the season. The sky had attempted to litter the streets throughout the month thus far but it never stuck for long until now. Now there’s real accumulation.
My first instinct was to crank the space heater up another notch, retreat back into bed and pull the covers chin high, and pretend it isn’t there. But… call it a summoning or what have you, I felt the need to go outside.
I put on a coat and my wellworn leather boots (which in all honesty probably shouldn’t be out in that kind weather – but we have walked through worse together) and a soft gust of frigid air brushed against my face.
I headed down the street and started to follow a pair of footsteps left in the ivory. I looked back and saw my own tracks left behind. There’s something refreshing about being able to see proof that you’ve been somewhere. The tracks led to a car in a small lot at the intersection of two streets and a man hurriedly sweeping buildup off the windshield. He noticed me and nodded, I did the same.
I kept on walking. Snowflakes fell upon my eyelashes and I blinked them away. I’ve never believed that no two flakes are identical. It doesn’t seem possible considering how much falls down in a given season just in this city alone, not to mention around the world. And what about Antarctica? It’s practically the biggest snowflake in the world. The frozen water crunching underneath my feet can’t be much different from what’s down there. Still…
I’ve never been able to make incredible snow art like Calvin did with his partner, Hobbes. And I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a formidable snowball fight and sledding always felt like too much of a chore for me to enjoy. And I can’t say I appreciate how much it slows down commutes. Still…
My hands were starting to feel like 2 icecubes holding 10 icicles and my nose was starting to leak. I avoided the slush splatter as cars crept past. Schoolchildren wrapped in many layers started coming out of homes and huddled together at bus stops. I was beginning to wonder why I had came out here at all. It seemed as if I were the only one outside at their own will.
People around here seem surprised every year when it starts to snow. Local news teams spend much of their time reporting on the upcoming weather, incredulous Facebook statuses are posted, and if you
are unfortunate enough to have to make small talk with a stranger they always something like, “Can you believe this?”, as they look upward. Well, yes, I can believe it. It’s MidNovember in the Midwest. It’d be more troubling if it weren’t snowing. Still…
I often walk calmly when it rains out while many people run for cover. I feel so in touch with Mother Nature as she sheds tears of joy down on my skin. I guess they just get wet. And I guess that’s why I went out this morning. To give a different gift from Mother another try.
Still… I can’t say that I like the snow. But watching it fall, back in the warm comfort of my bedroom, I can appreciate it’s beauty. But like much in this world, I find this beauty is best appreciated from a distance.