Snow

I love the first snow fall.  I am not sure how often I have written that here in these pages.  I love the way it smells.  I love the way the snow makes everything feel slightly warmer.   I absolutely adore these snowy days.

I would like to think that I love it because snow fall is inherently nostalgic.

Sitting here in my east coast bay window, I am trying to remember who I was this time last year.  But, I can’t fully remember her. I remember where I was, who I was with, what I was working towards and what I thought I wanted.  But, I don’t remember who I was.  How I felt.  The snow only makes those memories more familiar, but their still pretty fuzzy.  It feels like I am missing something significant.  Not some one or some thing, really.  More like I am missing a vital piece of information.

I can remember describing a frozen prarie landscape as having a tragically romantic mood about it.  But as I sit here now trying to grasp at why that was, I am starting to wonder if I misinterpreted what that emotion was.  Perhaps it was a subtle nuance of possibility that I found to be alluring.  But why am I sitting here today missing that feeling?

Oh dearie me, the snow fall makes me in to one sappy fool.

XO

/J

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