I got up early to visit the bathroom and looked out the window. Not quite 6 in the morning and it’s …
Hard. A lot of snow is falling. From the snow-white sky. Falling on the trees and on everything.
Two weeks ago, it was warm as summer. We were taking pictures of kids fishing in the river. In tee-shirts. I’m suspicious of warm weather in the middle of February, but this was it. The snow was still melting. Just a few days earlier, we’d gotten more than a foot and a half of it. Now … summer.
In New England.
I got used to it. After the week and a bit of 72 degree weather with shiny sunlight, the snow had melted. I figured winter was done and gone. But not this morning. Because it’s snowing hard and apparently going to keep at it for a while.
This entire year has been an abstraction. A time of craziness that isn’t going to return to normal in a future I can see. In other ways, life is peaceful. We have gone an entire year and no one has been ill. Our financial lives have not fallen into disrepair. It has been as normal a year as people our age can expect … except for a few, wee tiny things.
Probably started when the lid blew off our national pressure cooker and the worst man possible was suddenly president. A bit of a shock, that. This strange weather is simply one more little piece of craziness.
In a nearly desperate move to keep our own personal heads from exploding, we’ve settled into an existential gray space. Everything is sane because nothing is. Sane. We know we are crazy. Which is okay because it’s the world and whatever is … IS.
So if there will be 10 inches of snow today? It will melt.