winter birds

it snowed again today. i don't ever remember it snowing this many times in one winter. a few things are distinctly different when it snows. first it's a little frantic if you're in the city (especially a southern one like nashville), and it's an instant calming feeling when you're in the country. but my experience now is in the city, so i'll go with that. i get in the car and buckle my seatbelt. it makes a different sort of noise. and when i unbuckle it it's more difficult to get around the puffy coat and see out from underneath my low-hanging hood. the snows falls in its big wet flakes. it gets on your face and sticks before melting into a tear rolling down your face, onto the puffy coat. snow has a polarizing effect. you're either praying for it to snow or praying for it not to snow. and both parties have good, good reasons why. the feeling of turning on the tv for the snowbird report, and seeing the flakes falling in your county, then you get so excited but try not to get too excited because you don't want to wake yourself up too much. then you snuggle, truly snuggle, down into the covers. and when you don't want it to snow because you have a lunch date or a long drive, you silently pray against all those school kids and some teachers, that somehow the snow will miss. which, until this year, it usually does. this year it has come every time they've said it's coming. how odd. and now i sit under a blanket with socks on and dry skin from running the shower too hot. the snow has caused the earth to fall silent. such weight in something so light. i know it will probably be all gone by tomorrow afternoon, so i will enjoy the way the light shows brighter on the ground, like we live on the surface of the moon. i will enjoy it, and all the ways we are a little different when it's here.