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Can You Hear the Snow Falling?


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Tonight I was able to experience something amazing.

It decided to snow tonight here in Ashland, which is a rarity. Not only is it just snowing, it is really snowing. Inches. It is that perfect temperature that makes the snow spongy and firm. You can mold it like clay in your hands. It fell delicately from the sky in small little clumps. You could see the city lights reflecting off the low clouds. It illuminated everything with that perfect warm glow. Everything was so still. You could only hear the snow falling. There would be a little “pip” the snowflakes as they reached the soft ground. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

It was 3 am.

I decided to make a few snowmen for Jon-Erik. I carefully rolled a few and put them on his car. Michael followed suit and eventually, a snowball fight arose. We had no gloves and little clothing, me in my Pajamas and puffy coat, Michael in Dickies and a sweatshirt. We threw snowballs through the pain in our fingers and occasionally hit the desired target. With numb hands I gathered snow while dodging behind Jon-Erik’s car. Soon the last snowball was thrown and our hands retreated to our pockets. I blew warm air on my hands allowing my blood to once again to begin circulating.

My hands quickly warm up and I again force them to dive back into the snow. I make one final small snowman and we retreat into the house. I place the little snowman in the freezer where he will reside for who knows how long. I proceed to write a note for Jon-Erik with large letters so it will catch his attention. Michael and I say our good-byes and I venture back into the motionless night.

I came to my car and started it to allow it to warm up. I pulled my sleeves over my hands and proceeded to wipe off the snow. Satisfied with my efforts, I got into the drivers seat and put on my seatbelt. The roads have not been plowed and no one has really been driving on them. This was going to be rough. I ease my pathetic vehicle out of my parking space urging it forward. I have to reverse and a few times to rock it out of the space. I am finally able to give it enough umph which put it into someone’s old tire tracks. I putt along the back streets trying to make it to the main light. It is a slow and delicate process, but I let my car do what it needed to do to keep it moving.

I finally reached the light between Indiana, Whitman, and Siskiyou. I wait. I keep waiting. The light refuses to turn green. I wait some more. I decide to go for it. I slugged through the torn-up intersection and made it to the second light. I see more recent tracks going down Hwy 99 and decide to take that route. It was smooth sailing from there on out.

I arrive home probably about 10 minutes after leaving Michael’s. In my apartment I find a peeping cat and I eagerly take off my wet shoes. My apartment is warm. Cozy-like. It smells of candles and leftover food. It makes me smile. It was home.

I needed to share my joy with my roommate.

Soon, my shoes are back on, I have found a pair of gloves, and I am out the door once again in my puffy jacket. I get to the street and start rolling a nice sized snowman. I pick it up like I would a baby and cradle it in one arm as I make my way back upstairs. I carefully opened the door and walk inside. Being extra careful not to drop it, I successfully make it out on the balcony where I put him in the left-hand corner. It was a little frumpy, so I decided to mold him a little better and give him a smile. After I am satisfied with my craftsmanship, I leave a nice note on the door in big pink letters. She’ll like that.

Finally, I make my way back into my room where I sit down in dimmed lighting and enjoy the last moments of my evening.

Without a warning, the power goes out and all is silent. Fumbling for my lighter I make my way to the kitchen to light the candles. Ironically, after I had all the candles lit and in my room, the power came back on. I turned off all the lights anyway and kept my candles burning. The jumping shadows kept my senses aware of my surroundings.

Kitten is curled up on the other end of the bed, sound asleep. She twitches in tune with her dreams. The pull of exhaustion tugs on my eyelids. Sleep awaits me. I will find peace in my sleep tonight; everything is just pure, white, and quiet. I know tomorrow, I will awake to find more snow and even a more beautiful day. Things like this make me thankful to be alive. And to feel alive.







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END