Watching the Snow Fall

I went to bad last night (ok...3 in the morning...) knowing that I would wake up to a snow storm. (Ain't weather forecasts fun?)

I was disappointed when I woke up to no snow. (I woke up at 8; too early for the snow.)

But then when I went back to sleep and woke up again at 10:15, the snow was coming down in full-force with hefty winds behind it. I realized that I could watch this snow for hours on end.

Back in my days when I wrote all the time -- before I spent my creative energies on musical composition -- I would sit up at night and watch the snow fall in the aura of each streetlight and house lamp. No light, total blackness, but in the light, a sphere of white forms outlining the reach of each light, dancing in and out of visibility.

Yes each snowflake is different, but truth is, when they're put together, there are really only 3 or 4 different kinds of snow storms.

The first real snow of this season, though, was a fun one.

I was at work at WNYC. Very large flakes. Pringle-sized isn't a stretch. I came inside from buying my lunch and said to the associate producer I work with, "Noel; look at how huge those flakes are!"

So he, Courtney (a producer for Radio Rookies), and I stood at the window and watched. It was as if we'd never seen snow, yet we are from Colorado, Minnesota, and Massachusetts respectively. We clearly know from our share of snow.

I guess it wasn't the snow that caught us but rather the nostalgia that comes with snow for us. I'm sure we all had our own memories of snowball fights and snow forts and snow men and catching snowflakes on our tongues -- a pastime I tried on my walk home from work that night, not remembering how truly hard it is.

Or maybe it's just because it was beautiful...