It snowed again

I woke up at 6 a.m. to get ready to take Tamara to the airport, and checked Twitter (a regrettable but sometimes useful ritual), only to see @mdinstuhl telling everyone to look outside. I hadn’t been keeping up with the news and usually if there is any chance of solid precipitation coming, its impendingness is a major, major deal and everyone spends the entire night prior making milk-and-bread jokes. But nothing, not a peep. So I rose and out the window it looked like a freaking Thomas Kinkade Christmas card. In the best possible way.

Tamara’s flight was on, then canceled, then back on, then delayed again. I drove her to the airport in between the flurry of delays, white-knuckled and crazed from too much orange juice and not enough sleep. I really hated to see her go; we had a lot more talking in us, but it’ll have to wait until next time. It’s kind of remarkable that I was up so early because I got to see the snow at its prettiest on the drive back. I took a road I’d never been down before to get to get home and ended up going through a part of town I didn’t even know existed that’s literally just a few blocks south of my house. Amazing how you can live in a place and have no idea what’s around you.

Snow is a great equalizer, though. Even rundown shotguns with crap in the yard have a quiet dignity when covered in snow.