I snowed this morning!
I woke up around 05:00, and peaked out the window. Nothing. I turned over and tried to sleep. By 06:00, I had lost the battle, and was wide awake. I switched on my light, and peered through the blinds again. Still nothing. The ground was wet, but there wasn't a snowflake in sight. An hour and a half later, I was ensconsed at my computer, when my roommate got up and came to find me.
"Have you looked outside?" she asked.
I skooted over to the window, stuck my finger through the blinds, and sure enough, it was snowing. And sticking. The scafolding and builders materials outside my window were lightly dusted in white, and there were more soft flakes falling between the buildings. I couldn't get dressed quickly enough, pulling on as many layers as I could manage at top speed, and I was out the door in under ten minutes. The snow is so pretty. It floats down apparently from nowhere, and coats everything, getting in people's hair, and sticking on my eyelashes. The moment it touches my skin, it melts, and leaves little damp spots where it had been.
I walked at top speed down to Union Square, and then, because I was enjoying the walk, to Washington Square Park. By the time I got there, the snow had stopped, but the park was coated in a layer of white that was really pretty thick on the grassy patches. I walked all over the square, leaving footprints in the fresh iciness just for fun. Dogs and little children were hopping around excitedly, playing, just like I was, though less demurely, and I wished just briefly that there was someone nearby I knew well enough to throw a snowball at.
I woke up around 05:00, and peaked out the window. Nothing. I turned over and tried to sleep. By 06:00, I had lost the battle, and was wide awake. I switched on my light, and peered through the blinds again. Still nothing. The ground was wet, but there wasn't a snowflake in sight. An hour and a half later, I was ensconsed at my computer, when my roommate got up and came to find me.
"Have you looked outside?" she asked.
I skooted over to the window, stuck my finger through the blinds, and sure enough, it was snowing. And sticking. The scafolding and builders materials outside my window were lightly dusted in white, and there were more soft flakes falling between the buildings. I couldn't get dressed quickly enough, pulling on as many layers as I could manage at top speed, and I was out the door in under ten minutes. The snow is so pretty. It floats down apparently from nowhere, and coats everything, getting in people's hair, and sticking on my eyelashes. The moment it touches my skin, it melts, and leaves little damp spots where it had been.
I walked at top speed down to Union Square, and then, because I was enjoying the walk, to Washington Square Park. By the time I got there, the snow had stopped, but the park was coated in a layer of white that was really pretty thick on the grassy patches. I walked all over the square, leaving footprints in the fresh iciness just for fun. Dogs and little children were hopping around excitedly, playing, just like I was, though less demurely, and I wished just briefly that there was someone nearby I knew well enough to throw a snowball at.
Suddenly the sun rose high enough to peek over the tops of the impossible tall buildings, and the whiteness was bathed in a shiny golden glow. Everything sparkled. It was just too beautiful for words. There are real benefits to being up early.
I kicked around for nearly an hour before I realized that my toes were going numb, even through three layers of socks and my hefty boots, and I headed for the library. The snow was clinging to my boots, clumped underneath and around the sides, and leaving darker patches on the bottoms of my trousers, and I kicked it off carefully before walking into the library building.
The building wasn't quite empty, but very nearly was, and I was glad I didn't have to try to hide the silly grin on my face from too many cool, calm and connected undergrads for whom a little sprinkling of snow in the middle of winter is tedious, and not novel.
I kicked around for nearly an hour before I realized that my toes were going numb, even through three layers of socks and my hefty boots, and I headed for the library. The snow was clinging to my boots, clumped underneath and around the sides, and leaving darker patches on the bottoms of my trousers, and I kicked it off carefully before walking into the library building.
The building wasn't quite empty, but very nearly was, and I was glad I didn't have to try to hide the silly grin on my face from too many cool, calm and connected undergrads for whom a little sprinkling of snow in the middle of winter is tedious, and not novel.
No comments:
Post a Comment