"hey alright i might be goddamned/a life of arctic sounds"
I'm supposed to be working, but I was so affected by my walk here that I will just work an extra hour tomorrow so I can write about it and then go sit outside and enjoy the out-of-doors.
Today is an example of my ideal conception of the weather. Fall has settled and threatens to give way to winter. The cold bites you, but you don't bleed. Holding my coffeecup in one hand, I know its not so bad because I can still feel my fingers. I can wear my coat and scarf and not be too hot, the wind forces a healthy pink glow back into my pale cheeks. The sky is bright. I can see blue, white, and gray above me.
Everything is moving. Forgotten plastic bags are whipped up into the air and fly. Squirrels aren't sleeping yet, and scramble to fatten up as fast as they can. The wind is visible, it's hand touches everything. The uncut grass ripples like water, there is no quiet anywhere.
As I walked past the cultivated nature and stately architecture of the Med School, it started to snow. The first snow of the season. I wanted to call everyone I know and tell them to go outside immediately and see what I was seeing. I wanted to find a place where I could lay down facing the sky. I wanted to sit down somewhere and watch everything. It was the kind of snow that melts before it hits the ground, tiny dry flakes that look like petals fallen from heavenly pear trees. All mouths are agape, all looks at Mother Nature's hand are incredulous. It's not cold enough to be unbearable, so people want to be outside. Its nice to feel something other than disgruntled at the weather, which around here spends 10 months being too hot or too cold.
I saw a man, a rough-fingered worker in steel-toed boots and a heavy brown sweatshirt, eating a picnic lunch outside. He was not shivering although the snow was falling faster; he looked exactly as he's looked every other time I've walked past him, observing the students bustling around while he enjoys one meal or another. He seemed to know what I was feeling. That it might be cold, but it's worth the chill just to be outside and be shined on and snowed on, to remain dry and be moved by the wind. It's definitely worth it.
I'm supposed to be working, but I was so affected by my walk here that I will just work an extra hour tomorrow so I can write about it and then go sit outside and enjoy the out-of-doors.
Today is an example of my ideal conception of the weather. Fall has settled and threatens to give way to winter. The cold bites you, but you don't bleed. Holding my coffeecup in one hand, I know its not so bad because I can still feel my fingers. I can wear my coat and scarf and not be too hot, the wind forces a healthy pink glow back into my pale cheeks. The sky is bright. I can see blue, white, and gray above me.
Everything is moving. Forgotten plastic bags are whipped up into the air and fly. Squirrels aren't sleeping yet, and scramble to fatten up as fast as they can. The wind is visible, it's hand touches everything. The uncut grass ripples like water, there is no quiet anywhere.
As I walked past the cultivated nature and stately architecture of the Med School, it started to snow. The first snow of the season. I wanted to call everyone I know and tell them to go outside immediately and see what I was seeing. I wanted to find a place where I could lay down facing the sky. I wanted to sit down somewhere and watch everything. It was the kind of snow that melts before it hits the ground, tiny dry flakes that look like petals fallen from heavenly pear trees. All mouths are agape, all looks at Mother Nature's hand are incredulous. It's not cold enough to be unbearable, so people want to be outside. Its nice to feel something other than disgruntled at the weather, which around here spends 10 months being too hot or too cold.
I saw a man, a rough-fingered worker in steel-toed boots and a heavy brown sweatshirt, eating a picnic lunch outside. He was not shivering although the snow was falling faster; he looked exactly as he's looked every other time I've walked past him, observing the students bustling around while he enjoys one meal or another. He seemed to know what I was feeling. That it might be cold, but it's worth the chill just to be outside and be shined on and snowed on, to remain dry and be moved by the wind. It's definitely worth it.
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