the First Sn owfall

The First (?) Snowfall - 2000 A.D.

... Oxymoron: Always changes

It was still fairly dark as I awakened this morning about 6:30. The voice on the radio, turned low because of my sleeping neighbors, said "six or more inches of snow in Boston and on the north shore." Whoops! There's no milk in the house, said my seventy-one year old brain. I learned that train of thinking back in the 30's and 40's. At the sight of the first flake, it was "Do I have enough milk?" Then the second thought: "Where are my overshoes?"

As the world outside my window lightened, I saw a thin dusting of white on the parked cars and the open yards. But for how long, said the child within me. Better get out to the store for necessities, agreed my adult self, before it gets too deep. (Famous words through the ages.)

In an hour, I was bathed and dressed and found my boots without any trouble. Knitted hat (I never wear'em) pulled down over my ears, new quilted jacket with sweater underneath it, purse over my shoulder and gloves on my hands, I set out on the two-block walk through a silent fairyland.

It was truly quiet. That was the first thing that struck me as the outside door of the apartment house closed behind me. I had to stand still a moment and adjust to the hush. Except for the muffled sound of the slowly moving line of automobiles, no one was out but ME! The tall Victorian streetlamps lined the sidewalks. My hat and face and glasses became coated with a veil of white that fell in soft, small flecks from the sky and decorated my vision for blocks. My steps contributed to the silence as I blazed a hushed trail through the softly mounting flurry.

The grocery store was sparsely populated with people wearing the same bundled-up uniform, the white coating disappearing as it melted and dripped in the aisles. My next stop at the Irish Bread 'N' Bits coffee and tea shop on the way home was like attendance at an old-friends party or club where all the participants had something in common. The "To go.." troupe expressed their opinion, their humor, their good spirits while shaking their sleeves and stamping their booted feet. The few at the tables who were sipping steaming cups exchanged chummy observations of the situation.

Later, would come the retrospective remarks of "Snowstorms I have known," but for now it was moderately thrilling to dress for it in anticipation, experience it as though it were the first time, see and feel its annual beauty.

Previously published

February 5, 2000