Snow

I went to Spain last week. And before leaving I read the weather forecast for the coming week that the snow will melt by the time when I'll get back and it's gonna be rainy and gloomy for the rest of the week and it really got me upset. On that morning as I was leaving and was waiting for the bus to take me to the airport it started snowing with those big white puffy snowflakes - in fact it was a bunch of snowflakes stuck together. And once again I realised that I am a total snow fan. It is such a unique creation of the nature that I just can't stop admiring it. Every time it snows I just feel like I see it for the first time and happy cause it simply does. And here comes a quintessence of my emotions regarding this white magic, Douglas Coupland has put it down in a very exact way in his book "Generation X":

"...I'll always remember the first time I saw snow. I was twelve and it was just after the first and biggest divorce. I was in New York visiting my mother and was standing beside a traffic island in the middle of Park Avenue. I'd never been out of L.A. before. I was entranced by the big city. I was looking up at the Pan Am Building and contemplating the essential problem of Manhattan... But right then my brother Allan yanked me at my sleeve because the walk signal light was green. And when I turned my head to walk across, my face went bang, right into my first snowflake ever. It melted in my eye. I didn't even know what it was at first, but then I saw millions of flakes - all white and smelling like ozone, floating downward like the shed skins of angels. Even Allan stopped. Traffic was honking at us, but the time stood still. And so, yes - if I take one memory of earth away with me, that moment will be the one. To this day I consider my right eye charmed."

I got sick in Spain, this is the reason why I am staying in my room staring through the window at the snowstorm outside and not wearing my warmest clothes and going for a walk. The weathermen turned out to be wrong as usual :) It is simply beautiful - this silent white dance under the street lamps. The blanket which covers the ugly parts. The perfect symmetry. The wistful vanishing on my warm palm.