Pause
Faced with conflicting advice from my horoscope, doubt as to the contribution being made by my latest draft paper, and the desperate need for a cup of coffee (coffee is never on the menu at the Aged Relative’s), I went out into the snowstorm this afternoon.
Well. Poets write about this sight, and this post won’t add anything to the snow-in-midlife literature, but I have to say it was a delight to be out on streets with names like Fayerweather and Brattle in a soft, persistent blizzard. Cambridge MA is an essentially black-and-white town, and the snow is just another special effect calculated to make you think you are wiser than you are. There are little patches of color - daring to paint your ancient house yellow! - but mostly you walk through an older and gentler time, and the sound of the snow hissing comfortably through the trees only confirms the time-travel.
There were cars on Brattle, Garden, and Concord, but they weren’t going anywhere. Sometimes a Volvo would lurch forward, slipping on the ice. I, on the other hand, made great progress towards the coffee place, and only fell once. I didn’t hurt myself, and the coffee had been almost drunk by then, so even that was just fine.
Complete unplowed silence, with warmth at both ends of the trip. Perhaps that’s enough progress for today.
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[…] notes today about my Cambridge-snowstorm post last week are prompting me today to shimmer gently towards another non-FCC […]