Peace

It snowed for a bit this evening, which made for a sort of magical walk home for me, among the proud brownstones, the streets just a bit quieter due to a reduced number of cabs flying by. I’m not sure whether a recent depressive rut is seasonal, but I do think this weather really is for me: cold nose, visible breath, woolly scarf, hands shoved deep in pockets, hot tea, and that amazing pine scent as I walk through the Christmas Tree stand on the way to and from the subway. It’s good to be noticing the little things again, to switch off that biting internal monologue and stare out the window at the swirling flakes that are now covering cars and masking the fire escape, its black iron slats turned to soft white tendrils. The snow may be gone in the morning, but I hope the mood isn’t.