I love the snow
over a couple of decades
It was winter. Every morning, the boy excitedly climbed down from his bunk bed and ran to the window, peeking between the blinds, hoping to see a world transformed. The forecasts had mentioned snow, so the boy dreamt of a thick white blanket covering everything. He read fantasy books about magic and wondered if somehow his imagination could become a reality. So each morning, he checked the window. And each morning, he was disappointed.
It didn’t snow much in Georgia. That’s what would make it special, he thought. But when snow finally arrived, it was never in the way that he wanted. It would barely stick, or disappear after a few hours, or turn to ice far too soon. It was slippery and uncomfortable and cold and wet. It wasn’t the snow he dreamt of, the one from movies — for snow angels, snowball fights, sledding. He decided that snow was overrated.
The boy grew up and focused on things bigger than snow (books, love, football). He went to college, got a degree. He got a job across the country. He moved to a place where the weather was always pleasant enough, grew to enjoy the greenery and wearing a jacket to a beach that he could walk to. Though everyone he knew seemed to like to go skiing on the mountain a few hours away, he decided that it wasn’t for him, because snow was overrated, and because he was plenty good at getting injured without needing to fall down a mountain.
When the boy decided to move to the big city, he didn’t think about snow. Everyone told him that it was a thing of the past, that the climate had changed too much and there was only freezing rain and short days in the winter now. But that was okay. He was focused on the big beautiful park, the live music, the wonderful people, and finding his place among all of it.
Thankfully, weather forecasts tend to be inaccurate. We can only make guesses about what the Gods of the sky will decide for us, whether our days will stay dry or we’ll find ourselves wading through the streets. And when weather arrives, despite all of the technology and all of the worries and interests in the world, we cannot ignore it.
The first time it snowed this winter, the boy, arguably a man now, was sick at home. He spent his day indoors, gazing out out the window, and feeling like a child once again. The second time it snowed, he watched the streets disappear under the white blanket as night fell. Before he had a chance to appreciate it, everything had mostly melted away.
The third time, he walked at night with his hand clasped in his lover’s, as flakes floated down from the sky. The streets were quieter than usual, as the white dust absorbed sound and crunched between their feet. They threw snowballs, they took pictures, they marveled. These streets had never looked so beautiful, an illustration from a storybook. He was happy he had been wrong. Snow was not overrated.
A week later came the snowstorm. The boy, feeling more like a boy than he had in years, woke up and went to his window. He pulled the curtain aside to see the lightly dusted city, and an unending snowfall gliding from the sky. After all of this time, in a completely different place, his dreams had come true.
The city was transformed, unrecognizable. It was an entirely different place, one where everything old had been erased, replaced by cool white. The perfect coat was only interrupted by the plowed streets, and elliptical impressions of footprints. In the park, there was more activity than in the summer; the whole city had come out to witness the beauty of the new land they found themselves in. Joy everywhere. People slid down hills on skis, snowboards, cardboard boxes, and sleds. Spectators cheered. Dogs danced around like they’d never been happier. Some attempted to make snowmen and igloos. The snow, light as air, crumbled between the boy’s fingers.
💧 Drops of the Week 💧
ALBUM - In Rainbows (From the Basement) by Radiohead - one of the greatest albums of all time performed live
POEM - “Snow” by A Xin - Snow is decorating the cosmos, as we / Seek our path to get back home, and the mountains are joyful.
this was dead ass me when i moved for school to cornell. i was so insanely happy every time it snowed. :’)