Weirdly, the last post I write involves snow. This post too deals with snow. You know, as I type this, it's snowing thickly outside. I'm trying to decide if snow/Arkansas weather is taunting me again. I suspect it might. In my heart of hearts, I hope that it's not.
Lance is so positive that we'll be free from our employment obligations that he bought bread and milk--not because we'll need to survive the harsh winter conditions (like most other Arkansas think as they fill up their gas tanks and wipe out the bread, meat, and milk). Rather, he wants to make grilled cheese sandwiches and hot chocolate and walk around in the snow.
We have snow traditions. One of them usually involves walking in the snow at night, when the world is silent and peaceful, wrapped in white. I love the sound of snow--it's like a pressure on my ears or a lack of noise or the barely perceptible melodies of snow striking surfaces. Something about the way the world is when it snows delights me; it becomes a land out of Faerie, a magical place. And that magic is most perceptible at night when there are few cars or people or creatures stirring about, and anything--anything--could happen.
So my cynicism toward snow is melting, and I'm hoping to enjoy the beauty and magic outside of my office, unlike the last day it snowed.