To begin again

It’s snow­ing. The first of the sea­son, and it has­n’t stopped for four hours.

Finally.

I have so many things to write about, but this is the only thing on my mind right now.

snow

The view out the back.

Nothing fills me with hope the way snow does. I write about this every year. If there were ever a Wikipedia entry about me that said love, depres­sion, and win­ter, were all themes in my work, it’d be right.

4 comments

  1. Wow, I did­n’t realise 1C could pro­duce that much snow. The view is absolute­ly gor­geous, Aunt Vivien says hear, hear. She always says she likes your house the most…and write away!

    • It was about ‑1°C at that time of night, and that was cold enough to keep the snow on the ground. Now that it’s above 0, the snow on black pave­ment has melt­ed again. I think that’s what makes the first snow­fall so spe­cial; a lot of the white­ness turns to mud after a few days of cars dri­ving around.

  2. Jealous Jealous Jealous.

    I am going to be melt­ing in the 80s this week. I AM DONE WITH DUST. I WANT TO WEAR COATS AND SWEATERS AND FEEL PRECIPITATION. AAAAAAGHGHH!!!

    Going to get out my stu­pid iPhone Christmas tree app & redec­o­rate to make myself feel less depressed.
    It does snow.
    Lame snow.

    Really lame snow.

    • I com­mis­er­ate about the lame snow; there was­n’t much snow up here last year either (rel­a­tive­ly speak­ing, of course), and it almost felt like we did­n’t have a win­ter.

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