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14 February 2007 / April


I missed it. Truth be told, I had been rather looking forward to seeing it. I wanted to stand warm in my house and watch it fall furiously from the grayness above, pile up in soft drifts, coat the roads with icy danger. I wanted to be witness to the silent transformation of the landscape and the realization of a possible certainty.

While in the midst of a dream (about a brown earth with ash-gray trees), I woke up, sat up, looked out. Saw hardly a difference in the view outside my window.

Put on my glasses and looked again.

The transformation had occurred under the cover of night and closed eyelids, and by morning it was through. I was glad that the inevitable had happened after weeks of unfulfilled expectation, if not exactly desire, and yet a part of me was disappointed, perhaps a little saddened. I missed it.

But no, I hadn’t missed it all, not yet. Going outside in a new world– a wonderland, some would call it– I felt it on my cheek: the feathers of the wings of change.


EDIT (2:03 PM): From the looks of the roads right now, it appears that the snow plows have given up.


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