"I dream of a hard and brutal mysticism in which the naked self merges with the nonhuman world and somehow survives...Paradox and bedrock."-Edward Abbey

24 February 2013

100 Words; Upslope

The wind blows out of the east and I start the off with lapsang souchong tea. One of those days. A couple of inches of goose down floats along the air currents in the manner of willow-the-wisp.

Inside, the DJ alternates between bluegrass and Ravi Shankar. Fantastic. Down below, trained meteorological professionals wax 'pocalyptic about this turn of events. Feast or famine. Some people are never satisfied.

It's a little. Probably not enough in the grand scheme. In the moment, perhaps it doesn't matter. There's a certain beauty and silence. Everything is made new under a blanket of fresh white.

4 comments:

  1. Oftentimes, things that we think don't matter in the grand scheme ending mattering the most.

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    1. Ah, the old 'nothing is trivial' gambit ;)...

      The three or four inches of snow we got will help our snowpack a little, but not much. Reckon we take what we can get.

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  2. Ah, finally, snow. I bet you're smiling.
    We aren't; we panhandlers are bracing for impact. I spent the day fighting back the crowds demanding their roasts and stew meat. Our little Winter Watch has been upgraded to a full blown blizzard warning.
    sigh...

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    Replies
    1. It was something to frolic in for a bit, though people driving were jackasses...

      When I lived in North Carolina, it might've snowed once a year, and it'd be the few inches we got here and everything would be paralyzed for a week. I imagine that's what it's like where you live. My sympathies.

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