Meditations in a Snow Emergency
Like most relationships, we fall into the same fights, the same routines, repeated conversations because they are the only conversations we can share with absolutely everyone else who lives within a 50-mile radius. We complain, chide others for complaining, sulk in our bedrooms, pull down the shades so we don’t have to look at the way it clings tight to dirt and dog piss. But when it’s fresh and the flakes are engorged and voluptuously appealing, it catches our eye again, and our minds fill with thoughts of the beginnings of a magical affair, holding hands with a loved one and collapsing into a field to imprint twin angels onto the world, the firelit living rooms and bay windows of little houses, and kids waddling about in snowpants building snowpeople.
Originally published March 9, 2011
August 27, 2012 / Deborah Carver
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