Friday, January 28, 2011


Trees in Boston Common

It has snowed almost every day for the past week. I walk to the train station in the morning and walk home at night as the snow is falling, sometimes heavily so that my hair gets drenched if I don't put my hood up, sometimes lightly so that that flakes barely touch me. I love snow because it makes the world quieter than usual.

I feel like I've never experienced winter as much as I have since moving to Boston. I'm from Rhode Island so every winter of my life has been a New England winter, but everyone drives everywhere there. Going from heated houses to heated cars to heated jobs or classes, there is usually a barrier between people and the weather, except for cold-fingered walks across parking lots. I never considered the tread on my shoes so much, and was always fine wearing just a wool coat.

Now I have a warm waterproof down coat and when walking around I wear green galoshes or my brown boots with the sturdy treaded soles. In November I wondered why everyone wore those big puffy coats and heavy-duty boots, while I was riding the subway with my pink coat and impratical heels. Now I see why -- not having a car means close contact with winter and the need for more barriers, or else a miserable walk.

But I have been enjoying feeling more intimate with winter, how the snow keeps coming, how I walk down snow-crunch sidewalks and how I have more time to stare at the sky when it's the color of just-printed pages. Not that I don't miss my car when it's a mile-long-walk to the supermarket. But I do like feeling like the season is more well-defined, not slipping away so quickly.