It's snowing right now -- big old flakes. I forget it's November already. This semester has been crazier and more disorienting than usual. In our department meeting yesterday (a disorienting experience itself) I suddenly found myself unable to remember what month it was. At least I knew it was Monday.
Let's hope the snow doesn't last. I have to fly tomorrow. No delays allowed! I don't think there's too much to worry about, however; it's already slowing. It is pretty though.
Hmmm -- content? How about a bit from Theodore Roethke's "The Far Field" (it's got snow):
I dream of journeys repeatedly:
Of flying like a bat deep into a narrowing tunnel
Of driving alone, without luggage, out a long peninsula,
The road lined with snow-laden second growth,
A fine dry snow ticking the windshield,
Alternate snow and sleet, no on-coming traffic,
And no lights behind, in the blurred side-mirror,
The road changing from glazed tarface to a rubble of stone,
Ending at last in a hopeless sand-rut,
Where the car stalls,
Churning in a snowdrift
Until the headlights darken...