It’s snowing pretty heavily outside, which actually looks quite lovely, despite the fact that I’ve had enough of winter. But the snow is a sleepy, peaceful, pure sort of image, so I’ll take it for now. I’ll take it and let it guide me to a warm place in the bed and a nap under cozy blankets while that bluish light sifts into the room. Yeah, I couldn’t sleep again last night. But I’m sleepy now.
After the jump: an annotation on Franz Wright’s book Ill Lit: Selected and New Poems. And discussion of an insomnia poem. You can read it while I’m snoozing.
So far it has been a perfect winter, with snow that clings to the trees when it falls, snow that sparkles. We have a new back-saving snow shovel, and the use of a driveway to clear with it. We have snowshoes begging to be strapped onto our feet, to help us glide and float and flop through the woods.
Oh how I missed the snow when I was in Georgia!
But really, right now I’m just thinking about being out there on the sidewalk. I took the dog for a tiny walk a little while ago, and there was snow falling. It’s been falling all day, and I clicked a bunch of photos when there was daylight. It’s different at night, though. Only one car went by, and the snow makes everything more silent, and I have a cold right now, so the silence entered the strange pressure I have in my ears and nasal passages and soothed it a little bit. I felt sort of purified, as fresh-snow has a tendency to imply with its whiteness, even though each crystal is formed around a speck of dirt. It’s not late enough in the winter yet for me to start feeling depressed about the lack of color outside. Right now it’s just a sense of calm and beauty, and I’m grateful to have that. Very grateful. Sadness is too eager to jump me.
Weather. It happens. We talk about it. Right now the weather is snow, and I am rather enjoying that. I always get happy when I see snowflakes falling from the sky, especially when there are a lot of them, even though I know that a snowstorm means danger on the roads for some people, and a lot of work moving snow out of the way for everyone, especially my dad. But the weather is a community event. We all experience this snow. For the past week, everyone around here has been anticipating a big, big storm, and talking about it, fearing it, bracing for it, eager for it. Basically, I wanted to write this blog just to share one little story about that anticipation. It’s not even my own story, but I liked it so much I decided to pass it on anyway. So, yesterday, S went to the library. There was a longer line there than usual, she said, and everyone seemed to have armloads of books and movies. According to the librarian, this happens all the time when bad weather is predicted. Some people go to the grocery store when a storm is coming, she said, and some people go to the library.
That makes me happy.