Flurrying in the snow

*And it's beginning to snow* (Rent)

For a silly kid from Florida, nothing is more exciting than a fresh snowfall. Hell, even for a 27-year-old pseudo-adult, snow is pretty damn enthralling. I found myself today, like most children across the District, magnetized to the window and staring out at a million flakes that lazily coasted down to a candyland sea of powdered frosting, romanticizing everything they touched. Snowflakes are like upside-down white-laced umbrellas, cascading down in uniform- yet unique- bands of fluff and stuff that caught me spellbound and mystified.

10 minutes later, after trudging through some mud and slipping a dozen times, I was so over that shit.

Haha actually, all the skank that goes along with a gallop in the snow is quite worth it in the end. What's particularly interesting about snow, especially for someone who wasn't raised in it, is all of the symbolism tied to snowy days and winter wonderlands.

I immediately think of: warm fireplaces, getting some chapters done in a book, wooden cabins, soft candles, and snuggling under a warm blanket with that special someone.

But what if you don't have a fireplace, you're reading a book that bores you to tears (LOL actually, I'm currently reading "So you want to be an interpreter?" which I quickly have to shove in my bag when my deaf clients approach me on my interpreting assignments *cough cough*), your house is made of brick, your candles may set off the smoke detector, and you don't have anyone to snuggle up with (sorry, Henry the Turtle, but you are a cold-blooded creature...)??? What then, snow ... what then?!?

What's surprising to me is that sometimes when we are presented with the most spectacular sights, the most brilliant sunsets, the most immense canyons -- all of those things which make up the essence of being a conscious being -- we then wish for something on top of that. We sometimes wish we could share that experience with someone else (again, Henry, I'm so sorry but your softness can only go so far).

I thought about that today as the snow relentlessly proved its cuteness for hours and rested itself gently on every single tree branch in Fort Totten Park. To which I thought: "no ... actually, this is quite enough".

I don't need a fireplace, I don't need a novel, an isolated cabin adorned with sweet-perfumed candles, or even a cuddle buddy.

This sight is so perfect... so serene, so gently exquisite- why complicate it with all of that? I am privileged enough to enjoy it, perhaps more so than the people who've grown tiredly accustomed to a first snowfall.

So let it snow, let it snow, let it snow ... come here, Henry.