As I type, flakes (big, fat, fluffy Hallmark-film-style flakes) of snow are swirling and falling. As the temperature is still above freezing on the ground, they are of course melting . . . but apparently, it's going to get colder and worse and they are telling us to expect icing, accumulations and up to 3 inches inside the city.
I mentioned this to my friend who lives in Wisconsin (Hi Cathy!) via googlechat this morning and she was boggled because they just had their first snowfall of about an inch. I lol'd (it was chat!) because we could get more than them. Who knows if it will actually come to pass or not, but . . . they are saying it could and probably will.
It's crazy! If nothing else, we are over 25 degrees below our normal temps for this time of year. That is crazy.
So I mentioned it earlier. I didn't want it to snow. It feels like bad vibes or a warning or something (since that happened before the ectopic, and the hurricane happened before getting pregnant with Chickadee). But I thought about it and realized there was no unusual (or hell, normal) meteorological phenomenon announcing the doomed pregnancy with Gabriel. We had heavy rain once or twice, but not even real flooding.
So, I'm tucking back my superstitions (which is good, as I live with a black cat) and opening myself up to the enchantment. For two reasons.
One - it's hard not to be enchanted by a pretty thing like snow that happens only a handful of times in my normal life. It's neat and fascinating and sweet.
Two - as I walked through the falling snow to my office, I was suddenly pelted with a few extra flakes that flew into my mouth and surprised me. And I thought I heard a musical laugh filled with excitement and wonder and a sense of the words "It's SNOWING Mama!" and how can I deny the wonder of a child at such a magical thing without denying the magic of my child?
So . . . let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!
(and please please please let me get out of work before it gets bad!)