The front of my parents’ house is pretty much all glass. My apartment in Harrisburg had a big sliding glass door in the living room and two large windows in the bedroom. My rooms here at my grandmother’s house are in what used to be the attic and have only two tiny dormer windows each; those in my bedroom face complete darkness at night.
I just went downstairs and opened the front door to find that it was snowing. Not a lot — maybe a centimeter or two of accumulation — but I had no idea it was supposed to snow, and had no clue from my warm room that it had started. What a strange combination of disconnectedness, isolation, and safety that was.
It’s Wednesday afternoon, and I’m watching the snow come down outside my office window. I was so busy earlier, like you, I didn’t even notice it start. Perfect isolation not only means that you can’t see the world, but also that the world also can’t see you, which I suppose is the real appeal — protection from the elements. And there’s something calming about the watching the snow fall, the steadiness of it, even though I’m dreading walking home through the damp, cold streets at the end of the day.
It’s snowing in Washington … everything else is the same.
It’s Wednesday afternoon, and I’m watching the snow come down outside my office window. I was so busy earlier, like you, I didn’t even notice it start. Perfect isolation not only means you can’t see the world, but also the world also can’t see you, which I suppose is the real appeal – protection from the elements. And there’s something calming about the watching the snow fall, the steadiness of it, even though I’m dreading walking home through the damp, cold streets at the end of the day.
It’s snowing in Washington … everything else is the same.
It’s Wednesday afternoon, and I’m watching the snow come down outside my office window. I was so busy earlier, like you, I didn’t even notice it start. Perfect isolation not only means you can’t see the world, but also the world also can’t see you, which I suppose is the real appeal — protection from the elements. And there’s something calming about the watching the snow fall, the steadiness of it, even though I’m dreading walking home through the damp, cold streets at the end of the day.
It’s snowing in Washington … everything else is the same.
Repetition for emphasis?
Hmmm.
Taken together, this has
a compelling, almost hypnotic
quality. I like it.
Taken as a whole?
It snowed yesterday in the
East. Or maybe the day before.
And Christo has some banners
in Central Park. Just
put ’em in. Or up?
Coincidence? I think not.
How often does it snow thrice
in our nation’s capitol.
And yet remain the same?
We are insitituted by the smoke from a single Camel
cigarette. Floating inexorably toward Jupiter.
And it’s almost: goodbye February!