Where...is...my...SNOW??
Jan. 5th, 2007 03:14 pmThough the darkness and the grey days seem long even in their crushing brevity; though I've been known to complain about the winds that whip through the wide tunnel of Boylston Street, threatening to pluck me up with icy tongs and carry me into the Charles; though black ice, grey slush, chilled bones and heavy skies aren't exactly cheery subjects...
Gods dammit I want my SNOW.
If there's anything that feeds my depression, paranoia, irritation and misery more than short, dark days, it's short, dark, SIXTY-TWO DEGREE days. I mean seriously, what the hell?
I want to inhale that softly metallic, white smell of coming snowfall. I want the shock of frozen nosehairs, the clean clarity of ice as I step outside after the skies have cleared, a wan winter sun gleaming off of glittering drifts, my mind as pure as liquid nitrogen. I want that frozen knife to cleave the fog of my recumbent mind. I want the crunch, the squeak, the soft ssss of walking through fresh snow; I want the otherwise noiselessness of the streets as the weather mutes everything, silences animals, keeps people indoors, cars moored in their driveways, the only interrupting sound the joyous shouts of children, for whom snow creates a sovereign kingdom.
I have a down jacket, okay? Let's go.
Gods dammit I want my SNOW.
If there's anything that feeds my depression, paranoia, irritation and misery more than short, dark days, it's short, dark, SIXTY-TWO DEGREE days. I mean seriously, what the hell?
I want to inhale that softly metallic, white smell of coming snowfall. I want the shock of frozen nosehairs, the clean clarity of ice as I step outside after the skies have cleared, a wan winter sun gleaming off of glittering drifts, my mind as pure as liquid nitrogen. I want that frozen knife to cleave the fog of my recumbent mind. I want the crunch, the squeak, the soft ssss of walking through fresh snow; I want the otherwise noiselessness of the streets as the weather mutes everything, silences animals, keeps people indoors, cars moored in their driveways, the only interrupting sound the joyous shouts of children, for whom snow creates a sovereign kingdom.
I have a down jacket, okay? Let's go.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 08:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 08:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 08:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 09:17 pm (UTC)75 here
Date: 2007-01-05 09:29 pm (UTC)guess winter is over...
no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 10:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-05 10:55 pm (UTC)Although today wasn't so bad, apparently after two blizzards in two weeks that shut down the city for two to three days each, someone finally decided to hire a snow plow.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-06 07:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-07 11:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-08 12:03 am (UTC)And I'm grateful for the warmth, to a fair extent.
I actually like snow when I don't have to shovel or walk far through it, when I have good boots and other clothing for the necessary walking, and when I have a good vehicle for the driving in it.
But the darkness of these long nights *without* snow to reflect the moon, the stars, even the city lights... and the associated effect on my moods... This part I would happily leave behind forever and ever.