It snowed yesterday. Not really an exceptional event in and of itself, but it was the kind of snow that fell that was made it wonderous. In many Eskimo lanuagaes there are multuple words for snow, and the type and condition of the snow would dictate what it is called. So I am sure that they would have a fancy name for the type of snow that fell yesterday. All day I sat and watched the most wonderful, gigantic, beautiful flakes fall from the sky. First they were the size of quaters, falling down and melting on contact with the pavement but sticking around for a while on the grass. Then, as the day proceeded they grew larger and larger. By lunchtime they were the size of silver dollars and they filled the sky. Bright specks of white gracefully floating down from the heavens against a background made up of mostly gray and brown and dark blue.
It was the kind of snow that made people adore winter. It was not terribly cold. It was not being blown by the wind. It was just falling with style and grace, laying a beautiful winter quilt across hill and dale. And street and lawn and DykeSedan. Like I said, it was the kind of snow that makes one love winter. It was the kind of snow that made me want to run out in the field next to work and spin around like I was Heidi frolicking in the Apls or something. It was the kind of snow that is easily forgotten when it is eight degrees and those icy little windblown pellets that pass for snowflakes are pelting you in the face as you struggle through four inches of slush to do your Christmas shopping but still and are cursing winter but still, it was fantasic. It is the kind of snow that elderly people who have moved to Florida or Arizona or Texas choose to remember from their days in the Rust Belt, and that they choose to tell their grandchildren from Tennessee all about. That's the kind of snow we had yesterday.
Of course, by the time I split to go get lunch, it was done snowing. All I had left in which to frolic was the slushy remians. I suppose that I could have made an attempt to create a snow angel or snowman but it would have been a dirty European snow angel with grassy hair sticking up through the armpits and upper lip and crotchal region. And it would have ended up being a very runty snowman. And it would have melted by tomorrow anyway. So why do all that work. I really do bemoan the fact that I did not choose to go out and twirl around in the large snowflakes though. I hope they come back. I hope they come back at night. Because snowflakes at night in an urban areas are beautiful, they way they interact with all the lights and buildings and whatnot. I love it. And I hope you do too. Because you can't fight the snow, so you might as well appreciate it. There is absolutely no reason not to take it for what it is and maybe appreciate it a little bit. And that is on the Internet, so it must be true.