providence

I wasn’t looking forward to walking to class. All weather websites predicted cloudy and rainy again for today. Bummer. The chance of rain was higher and the temperature colder, so I opened the curtain to decide on footwear. Was the rain going to be bad enough to wear the bright yellow rain boots? After all, it hadn’t been raining when I walked to breakfast. Was it worth standing out that much and having people stop me to comment on my boots?

The construction sounded different outside. Must be raining. Already. Better open the curtain just to make sure.

Lo and behold, I open my curtain, and … there’s SNOW!

I had just been thinking that I was a tiny bit sad to be missing out on a snowy winter in Massachusetts. But the snow falling outside was my favorite kind of snow: the kind with huge flakes that just falls. It doesn’t drive or pelt or otherwise smack you painfully in the face. This kind of snow is the quiet, whispery kind. The kind that forms drifts and banks. The kind that provides the most enjoyment for fun activities like sledding and skiing and riding dining hall trays.

There wasn't very much snow. In fact, there was only a dusting and most of it was gone in 2 hours. But that’s okay. It’s enough. Just enough to say “it’s okay – Edinburgh is a nice place and you won’t really miss the winters in Massachusetts that much.”

Large flakes fell slowly and without hurry in front of my window. They fell just for me. Not for anyone else.

I tied my boots, wrapped the warm pink scarf around my neck, and walked the usual way to class. Unfortunately, I was completely soaked by the time I got there – snow is wet – but I was a happy soaked.

And the snow was gone by the time I got out of class. Slightly depressing. But at least I got a little snow. Just enough.


"It is astonishing what a different result one gets by changing the metaphor!"
-- The Mill on the Floss by George Eliot