|This is a photo of my street!|
Last night when I left the theatre I felt as if I had walked into another room. I opened the door of Taylor Hall to the quietness of winter. This quiet has been missing this winter as it has been so mild. The snow fell as if it had been shaken out of a tree.
I loved making new footprints as I walked to my car. I didn't follow the sidewalk as it wasn't even visible. My black coat was covered with snow as was my hair. It was such a glorious feeling. I said out loud, "This is why I live here. This beauty is magical."
As I was thinking back on last night I could only think of Dylan Thomas and his story, "A Child's Christmas in Wales." The entire version is available on youtube here:
I know it is a Christmas tale, but oh how lovely for this February.
Below please find an excerpt from his writing.
Rick Bass says to enjoy the winter, all of it, or it will get the best of you. Happy lovely winter day!
"But that was not the same snow," I say. "Our snow was not only shaken from white wash buckets down the sky, it came shawling out of the ground and swam and drifted out of the arms and hands and bodies of the trees; snow grew overnight on the roofs of the houses like a pure and grandfather moss, minutely -ivied the walls and settled on the postman, opening the gate, like a dumb, numb thunder-storm of white, torn Christmas cards."