This was a common scene yesterday, during what my housemate has been calling “snowpocalypse” (due to the ridiculous coverage on the local news). It turned out to be quite a storm, one that resulted in a snow day for pretty much the entire city and the attendant neighborhood cheer and fellow-feeling of a whole group suddenly released from their usual obligations and directed toward common tasks: shoveling the drive, digging out the car, giving a stranger a push. I, for one, was out on my cross-country skis — isn’t it great when that’s the best way to get groceries?
Today the high was six degrees Fahrenheit, and I walked into campus to teach my last section of the semester grinning like a madwoman. The cold was intense and clarifying, and, as it usually does, made me unmeasurably happy. The roads are awful, the buses are all running late, but I’ve got my long johns, my down, my boots — and ruddy cheeks. Oh, and a great new winter nightgown.