There is something incredibly soothing about snow falling on a busy day. Cars slow, and the world pauses to watch a new coat of white paint dry. Familiar landmarks are subdued as a dreamscape descends and buries not just the surface, but thoughts of the day, as well.
I do not think the the same way when I am watching the snow fill the air and cover the ground. It is as though the old world has come to an end, blanketed by a fine linen sheet drawn gently across the face of a recently expired patient. For a while time is frozen by the relentless piling of powder.
Old songs on the radio play like new. Worries and memories disappear in the face of the ancient threat of wind and cold tamed by a car heater set on hi. Driving through the cloud of flakes, the traffic proceeds slowly, carefully, red lights blazing a trail to the horizon until they disappear into a point. Brake lights call out in warning of ice on the road ahead.. The danger claims me from the cloud and I grip the wheel tight, ready to turn away from whatever might hurl itself in my way. Once past the frozen bridge the tail lights line up two y two and march into infinity bliss. My ride has cut a ribbon through heaven, but it closes behind me as soon as I pass. My ride is almost over, and with it a dream of oblivion to end a busy day.