snowflake

Well, now, that was pretty cool. Go to sleep in shades of gray and wake up to a bleary predawn world of blue and white.



At least that’s the first reaction. Not that it was a ticklish and delightful snow. Stepping outside I thought it was rather prickly and meanspirited. But still, lovely to behold.

I think about snowflakes even as my daughters are in New York attending (among other things) the Nutcracker this afternoon. My girl was a snowflake (among other things) in one such show. How long is one’s memory of poignant moments? Mine trawls back even further -- to when I attended the Nutcracker when I was a kid. It was the first time in my life that I cried because I found something to be beautiful.


Unfortunately, today was a day of work for me and so I could not spend much time contemplating the freshly white landscape. And so I guess I should feel thankful that my baby Apple (anything that’s less than two years old is a baby – and luckily still under my health insurance, excuse me, warranty, thank goodness) still needed urgent care (though her symptoms are improving, so there’s that). Twice I needed to go to the Apple Store at the mall and so I could ask Ed to detour through the prettier places on Madison’s west side, including the delightful Owen Woods.





I have to give Ed praise for never complaining on matters of detours, even when such suggestions are sometimes a bad idea – for example, when the roads are snow covered and slippery and the park driveways even more so, and when we are in his light and airy (the wind hits you in through the rusted parts) Geo with very easygoing tires that basically like to roll along and not rigidly adhere to much of anything.

He fights the slight incline while I get out, give an ineffective push and concentrate on taking a photo or two.





Eventually we make it back. Of course we do. I wouldn’t be writing if we didn’t.