Wednesday, December 17, 2008
The snow has come.
Yesterday’s forecast arriving a day late, upon roads sprayed and scattered with salt—readied for a Midwest winter.
More ice, than inches, the warm surround quickly melts each frozen flake into a slippery covering, paralyzing travelers across the city.
I sit in a line of traffic, inching forward as each car gets a grip on the slick surface and rolls forward under a green light. Against the dark shadow of the underpass, I watch the falling flakes drop slowly from the whitened sky, and land in small clusters on my windshield.
Just for a moment, their delicate shapes remain.
Then they are gone.