Home About Me Contact Tumblr

Monday, February 27

Ten brief minutes.

It was snowing when I got out of work today. I gasped when I saw it. Foreign flakes swirling madly in a desert wind. I walked into it slowly, allowing myself to become engulfed in the biting flurry. It came down swiftly and in waves, as if being thrown with anger from the sky. My coat was wet, the city streets shining and slick. Everything was eerily quiet and empty, and I imagined families of West Coast natives huddling in their blankets, mugs of warm and comforting liquids clasped in their hands. They were always so eager to step into the role of their Midwestern counterparts when it came to snow, this exotic beast that they usually only saw on television screens.

It only lasted for ten minutes. By the time I was walking into my door, the flurry had turned into a light drizzle, and even that all but faded by the time I got into bed. Looking out my window, I could barely tell it had snowed at all. I sighed and, after closing the blinds, crawled under my blankets and stared at my ceiling. For those ten minutes, for those enchanted ten minutes, it had felt like coming home.


Beth Berens said...

What a beautiful post. I remember you saying, on a phone call we had a month or so ago, that it was warm, and you were wearing a summer dress, and you'd thought, half joking, "Why did I want to move to New York again?"

The very next day, Michigan had the most beautiful snow all year. I drove to work, wide-eyed and hoping to hit every red light. It was a peaceful bed of light snow, resting on every branch, leaf, fence...
I actually said out loud, "This is why."

And then I thought in my head, that New York snow would be sitting on buildings and street lights, not treetops and fences, but every place has its own beauty. :P

S. Kahlon said...

I love you so much, Beth.

My heart is beating really fast.
I feel like a puppy who just got his first treat. That's how excited I am.