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

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 written February 2000