Un coeur en dehors de l'hiver

I want some snow.

Various friends would have me whipped and placed in the stockade for saying so, but I think it's starting to wear on me.  The weather projection for this week is highs about 50, lows about thirty.  Every. Day.

We had rain tonight, which -- for a very short while and likely due to a computer error -- was listed as snow.  I'm not going to say that I sat by the windows watching, but I did pull the blinds up and read at the nearest armchair. 

I think I need the cold and the snow to balance me out.  The official total for Kansas City this winter is 0.4" -- not even enough to declare a winner in the "when does KC get its first snow?" contest on the local weather.

My friend who grew up in Florida loves it.  My friend who grew up in Alabama sings the praises.  I think that it isn't the end of the world to be stuck in Eternal Autumn, but it sure is grating on my nerves.

I need the snow.  I need it to freeze the world.   A certain kind of beauty is only unmasked when the bright eyes wink in the wind, and while the hair framing those eyes is caught up in drafts bearing frozen crystals.  The muted crunch of footsteps soothes the heated anguish in my mind. The silence that fresh-fallen snow enforces: it calls out to the frantic parts of my brain in softly tufted storms.