existentialist cafe

life is sacred

Tag: snow

The colored world wakes up

After so much time time in the city, finally got to breath some country air and walk through the woods. No matter that it was in ~12 inches of snow. It was 61 degrees! Wonderful. I saw two pileated woodpeckers(!), some green shoots growing in a puddle of snow melt, and the most amazingly blue sky I can remember. When I got home there was a torrent of starlings in the trees behind my mom’s house all talking about the weather. They are an invasive species, but that isn’t their fault.

The green like jewel shoots under a
sapphiric blue sky blasted away
the numbing white noise of winter

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First snow

The first snow fell this week in Philadelphia. I wondered what Basho might have said about it – he wrote many beautiful haiku about the first snow.

New Year’s first snow–ah–
just barely enough to tilt
the daffodil

The new year’s first snow–
how lucky to remain alone
at my hermitage

First snow
falling
on the half-finished bridge

I did not have any verses to write about the snow, but it was beautiful and brought to mind that awe is still a viable response to the world. Despite many snowfalls, snow is still quite reliable in its ability to transfix me. This, even though I have also come to dread it. My changing attitude towards snow is quite possibly the signal of my transformation to adulthood. Enough of that, though! It is a vestige of childhood delight that greets the blazing white blanket as I step outdoors. No matter that evening will bring biting cold, and cars will bring dirt and slush. I thought I was wise when I grew out of my wide-eyed childhood wonder, but this was really the beginning of my foolishness. Now I must make effort to recover that wonder. The snow helps.