Today the snows arrived. Outside my bedroom window the shingles of the roof were first bare, then slightly dusted. Now upon them lies 6 to 12 of glorious powder.

The secondary streets have not been touched; those intrepid enough to walk do so in the parallel paths unintentionally plowed by those even more daring drivers.

From my office windows a dizzying haze engulfs the otherwise familiar, forlorn walls and forgotten facades. It is quiet.

The office downstairs is closed, the sounds of students stomping their boots on welcome mats is absent today; who knows in what other pleasures they indulge.

The few cars that brave the road pass with barely a sound, in affirmation, perhaps, of our electric days ahead.

But then it comes… wait, can you feel it? Vibrations jar ahead of the orange lights as they come flashing by, illuminating our control over nature, if only fleetingly; they’ll be back many times yet.

How can I contrast this day with yesterday’s pristine blue skies and silent sun among the glades? Far be it for me to say, for soon too the shoveling and scraping will become tiresome.

But for now, for this rare moment, I seek only to be enveloped, to be swallowed fully by the snows.