Oh, It’s Winter.

When I woke up today it was snowing. I have very mixed feelings about snow. I think it’s beautiful and if it’s not too cold or too wet or icy, I can really enjoy walking in it. However, I do not like being cold and once the salt has been put down, it starts to look really gross. Here in Boston we have slush more often than real snow–at least, that’s how it’s been for the past few years.

It hasn’t been very snowy this winter. There’s been no accumulation at all, and when it does snow, it’s disappeared within a few days. I prefer a slightly warmer winter, but I wouldn’t argue with a persistent, manageable layer of snow throughout the season.

In honor of the snow, have a look at the short story I’ve had on this page¬†for a pretty long time now. And leave a comment or rate the page if you have any thoughts.

Off to try to be productive…

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MORE SNOW?!!!!

Did you hear? Another storm is coming. Ugh. I’m not impressed. I could look on the bright side, I guess, and say that at least it’s not going to be ass-numbingly cold again, but I’m morally opposed to snowstorms.

But it seems like a good time to direct you to my Featured Short Story page, where I wrote a rather low-maintenance piece about snow. I suppose you could call it slipstream or speculative fiction, or even fantasy if you want to go that far, but, I don’t know what I call it exactly. I’d love your input on that, though. So if you haven’t read it yet, go ahead and click over. It’s right there under the blog heading.

Since I update the same page with new stories, it might make more sense for you to comment on this post if you have any thoughts about the story. I would be glad to know anyone’s opinions. Constructive comments are always the most desired.

What happened to winter?

Glancing out the window from time to time today, and now listening to the trickle of rain off the roof outside, I am wondering, what has happened to snow? Was it all used up two winters ago, when it was piled so high you couldn’t even reach some of the sidewalks? That might be it. Is it waiting until it’s actually winter (December 22, officially)? I’ve never liked the freezing cold and I always hated sledding, the fun never quite making up for the discomfort of the snow getting inside my boots, snow pants and jacket – which always happened to me, no matter how well-tucked they were – but I would still rather see a glittering blanket of white than this soggy gray mess. I’ve been trying to remember what I liked about winter and coming up blank. The magic is gone.

Another Life #3

One night, I walked down a street devoid of other pedestrians and passing cars, lit only by the white glow of street lamps. I had bundled in scarf and coat against the cold and headed out, walking nowhere, letting the crisp air refresh my lungs. I wished I had someone to walk with me. Out of the colorless sky, pristine snow began to fall gently. The flakes turned the ground to a pure white blanket, and settled softly on my shoulders and in my hair. I held out a gloved hand to catch a few. Under the streetlight, the new snow twinkled atop pavement and grass. It made me smile. I watched the snow falling, walking slowly along the peaceful street, until it grew too cold to stay out. Once inside, I watched in the bathroom mirror as the snowflakes slowly disappeared from my hair.

The Seasons

Winter came early that year, covering the month of August with a cold cloak of snow. We all grumblingly dug out our winter coats and boots, warm scarves and thick socks, from their summer lodgings of out-of-the-way closets and boxes shoved into corners. The snow ploughs came out, with great difficulty, from their hibernation, so that the world could continue turning for those with places to be. Salt scattered haphazardly, resentfully across sidewalks and streets made messy coatings on tires and shoes. Snowfall ceased for days of respite, but the cold and the sight of sparkling white remained constant.

There was a certain beauty to the snow-covered blooms and bright green leaves of late summer. A perverse beauty, some said, but even the ones who thought so admitted that the glitter of frost on a dark red rose was enchanting.

Yet even the most snow-enamored of us found it rather unsettling. We had never seen August snow, let alone for the entire month. After a few weeks of speculating conversations, people stopped talking about it, instead sitting silently in cars and buses, on porches, wrapped in blankets, with hot tea, staring with interest, concern, and sometimes annoyance at the scenic wintery vistas.

September brought warmer temperatures and steady, mild rains, flooding the streets with a river of melted snow. We put away the cozy winter clothes in exchange for umbrellas, waterproof outerwear, and knee-high rubbery rain boots.

After the melting, everything looked withered and limp, with a grayish tinge of rot. Clouds consistently plugged up the sky, dulling the world that had recently been so bright. Mid-month, nothing had changed. The leaves did not fall from their branches, nor did they turn the familiar yellow, orange, and red of autumns past. Approaching October, which should have brought anticipation of beautiful colors, leaf-jumping, and (of course) Halloween, we found ourselves asking, Will the leaves ever turn? Will they fall, and make room for the new buds of spring? Or will we be trapped in a colorless world of rain, forever?

If one looked out of an elevated window, all one could see was a sea of decorated umbrellas, the only color we could muster in our dreary world.