Early, at daybreak, the storm had weakened, or at least moved on. It left behind a white and silent world. From my rooftop, the normally busy University Avenue looks car-less, deserted.
In the afternoon, I take a walk. I mean it to be short – the wind is biting, the temperatures are low. But I get caught up in this wonderfully pristine world of the day after. Plowed, yes, by now its plowed. But white nonetheless.
The distribution of snow is uneven. In some places it is modestly deep. In others it is immodestly deep.
I come across a team, busily digging up a sidewalk. Looking for something ? – I ask. The fire hydrant, they tell me.
Ah, red. You can’t see red if it’s buried in snow.
You can, however, spot it if it’s on a branch. Even partly hidden in bramble, it stands out in this still and powder white world.
I'm looking forward to Brian getting home and me taking the luxury of a walk in our cold. We have some ice left over and still bone-chilling cold (20s; I'm not used to this stuff any more!). But, unlike the rest of my family, I have winter stuff that still fits, and I'm excited to breathe the cold air. And really, I'm excited to hear the silence, or even the wind, even if it's not as pretty as a new snow. It will just be nice to get some exercise and not be around loud boys or sickness.
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