Saturday, 25 July 2009
I watch snow topped cars waddle down the road with a drunkard’s precision, as they pray that they won’t fall over for the ice sleeked road beneath them. Footprints remind me that this isn’t a day for everyone to wrap up warm and tight, to stay inside with their blankets and pillows, imprints of people’s journey’s, echoes of travels past, all waiting to be erased by the days, or the nights. The air is still, the snow settled, but this is just a moment. Moments before, snow drifted down, and moments after, it paused, but that’s just a fleeting stop in time, and soon, hopefully, it’ll continue again. But I’ll be wrapped up warm and tight, with my blanket and pillow, and I won’t care because it’s a snow day.