Last night, coming back from basketball, I lost my winter hat. This is disappointing, but given that the last two times I lost something after basketball, it was $50 and my backpack with a number of writing projects, losing the hat isn’t as much of a problem.
Naturally, though, today it snowed something fierce, and apparently shall continue well into the weekend.
But despite the missing ski cap (which will be replaced soon, I promise you that), I still can’t quite lose my wonder at a beautiful winter’s day. No joke, man. This morning when I stepped outside, I was honestly stunned are how beautiful it looked: big, thick, fluffy white flakes, and that gorgeous white lining on the tops of all tree branches, bushes, and railings, throwing the whole world in a sharply defined high-contrast setting. I was half-tempted to run back in for my good camera, but since I was running late for me train, I just moseyed on into the painterly quality of the day.
And, coming home, I arrived just after a fresh snowfall, and could not help but grin — again, despite the cold wind and lack of a hat — for there is something undeniably joyous about being the first person to walk across an untouched sheet of snow on the ground. As if you are the first person in human history to ever stride across that parcel of land.
I’m showing my Midwestern roots, aren’t I?
Oh, and although I did not have a hat, I did use the hood on my jacket. The hood is actually quite large, with a generous amount of drop to the front brim. If you think about those monks from “Monty Python and the Holy Grail” who kept hitting themselves in the head with planks of wood, that’s pretty much what I looked like. Minus the head-banging.