02.10.04
winter
i think of my journal like an old friend i haven’t been in touch with for a long time.
it’s hard to write to it because i feel like i have no excuse for being missing so long, but every day that goes by the rift gets larger and larger. i begin to feel like too much has gone on to possibly update my friend on what my life is like now, so i decide once more to put it off another day, until i finally suck it up and realize that the relationship is more important than the awkwardness that surrounds falling out of touch.
so here i am. forgive me?
the winter here is coming and going in spurts. one night it’s so cold your hair freezes and the next day the snow has melted a little leaving trails of water flowing down the porch stairs, only to give way to another icy chill a day later that turns the tiny trickle into a treacherous skating rink.
when it starts to warm up again a little and you open the car window while driving there is this little hint of spring that you can smell in the air. it’s not the smell of flowers or trees, but rather just the smell of everything as it actually is — as it was before it got frozen solid. it’s the way things are supposed to smell.
now don’t get me wrong — i enjoy the winter immensely, and the snow still thrills me, but it’s got its own quirks that make life a bit harder. the residue from road salt doesn’t look nice on my black jetta, and the black interior carpeting doesn’t take nicely to the snow and salt either. bundling up in the morning is an exercise in futility because after 10 minutes in the car it becomes too warm and i have to take my jacket off. then, it goes back on when i get to work for the 300 feet i must walk from the car to the revolving door of my building.
furthermore, snow turns from something gorgeous to something absolutely nasty as it begins to crystallize and turn gray and black from the dirt that gets kicked up on it. the piles of snow that were once so gorgeous turn into giant slate-colored piles, making me feel like i’m living in the world’s largest ash tray.
the one exception, though, is when i look into the backyard, where the snow has only been touched by the little feet of rabbits or cats. the fallen snow has been melted slightly, preserving its original blanket with a thin sheet of ice on top, almost like royal icing. it’s always nice to find those little pleasures untouched by the destructive qualities of humans. if everyone stayed inside after it snowed, the whole winter scene would last a lot longer and be widespread, instead of having to be contained in the tiny ecosystem of my backyard.
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