SNOW!

It's snowing. A Lot. And Sticking. A Little.

It never gets old! A gentle nighttime snowfall is to me, the closest natural approximation to the experience of poetry. Isn't that deep? I wrote about that once for a college poetry seminar, before I stopped writing poetry in favor of snarky blog posts.
Now, this rapturous view of falling flakes might not hold true for those currently in traffic, but from a New York city window, looking down into the lamplight, the snow falling is pure magic. And we know how I feel about global warming, so we know that I'm not happy with how rare it's been this year. I would have expected at least one frosty trek over the pathways of Ft. Tryon park so far. But tomorrow, should the snow last, will be my first.

Incidentally, the folks over at The Onion have a humorous take on these cold spells that have so captivated our regions's weatherpeople.