I have photos of the world that appeared outside of my window this morning. It was thick and cakey and gorgeous. I refused to shovel this beauty(read: fuck off, snow) away from my driveway. Some sweet soul blowed my sidewalks. I've been sick of the place I live and skeedaddled off to the Northwoods.
Later in the afternoon my son and I went outside to play. I dredged up the snowmobiling regalia I had helped my mother put away earlier in the week when it seemed Spring was inevitable. I met him outside where we stormed the trappings of a winter's worth of plowed driveways. It was a bastion, a mountain to be conquered and enjoyed.
"Commander! Quick, get up here before the sea creatures gnaw your ankles!" I said even though we were exploring "the moon". We slid down the slope together and fled from the Yeti.
It was a world in white. We lay on our backs and stared at La Luna in the late afternoon sky. We made snow angels and rang the big old school bell now mounted on a tall post overlooking the frozen lake. I was glad for it. Glad for the snow and for the the son and for the life I had no idea I would have. It's definitely not at all like I thought it would be. I work through it hourly.
" I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me. But it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once and it's too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst. And then I remember to relax, and not try to hold on to it. And then it flows through me like rain. And I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life. You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. Don't worry, you will someday." -Lester Burnham
