Friday, February 25, 2005

Notes On Snow

I‘m a snow baby. I was born during Cleveland’s Blizzard of ’78 . I understand this time of year better than any other because I’m one of its children.

It snowed tonight. It was fluffy and light; the kind of snowfall that instantly reminds you of a snow globe. I was reminded of that scene in WONDER BOYS when Professor Tripp and James Leer discover each other outside of the English Department party, as well as that scene from THE WEST WING when Josh comes home and finds Amy on his stoop waiting for him. The snow wasn’t violent, but instead each flake drifted aimlessly in the wind. It conjured up images of Norman Rockwell paintings and hot chocolate. Three marshmallows snow.

One of my strongest memories of living in New York City happened just a month ago. It was after work on a Saturday night and I had arrived at my subway stop. As I ascended to the surface I discovered the path I walk home, completely covered by a full foot of snow. Untouched. I wished I had had a camera. Its beauty made me take pause. Much like a perfectly plated dish, you just stare at it for a minute. And then I walked home taking some pleasure in being the first to put footprints on the blank white canvas. It awoke the explorer in me.


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