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.