-- Snowfall --
The snow yesterday was quite pleasant, and I rather enjoyed walking through it. Today, I think I shall most definitely stay indoors. I have not seen snow as heavy as this in all my lifetime.
It is certainly beautiful to watch from the window, however. I like the quality of the air when it snows: that lovely sound, if it can be even called that. Do you know what I mean? I found a poem that does some justice towards describing it...
The sound of snow...
it is all of these together
or separately
or combined
and sometimes
none of them at all,
like a dark still night
where sound just doesn't belong.
....it is a kitten landing on a feather pillow,
a single thin piece of paper
floating from side to side
then settling on the ground in one graceful slide,
it is a wind through a spider's web,
long silk hair tussled by a breeze
....snow is not silent it is discrete,
hiding in the open
....a three year old's sleeping breath,
a tear of joy escaping down a red round cheek
....the sound of snow is
the moment between sleep and consciousness,
fuzzy and both empty of thought and full of promise all at once,
snow is the sound dreams would make if we heard them while awake,
snow is the sound an angel makes as it guides a soul to rest.
The sound of snow
...it's all of these together
or separately
or combined
and sometimes
none of them at all.
This curse should not last too long, I hope. Heavy snow like this impedes ones daily duties; I would not mind it if it returned to a lighter fall, though.
[ooc: Poem located right here; by TP Sage. EDIT: Will tag in the morning. Lost track of time there. ^^;]
It is certainly beautiful to watch from the window, however. I like the quality of the air when it snows: that lovely sound, if it can be even called that. Do you know what I mean? I found a poem that does some justice towards describing it...
The sound of snow...
it is all of these together
or separately
or combined
and sometimes
none of them at all,
like a dark still night
where sound just doesn't belong.
....it is a kitten landing on a feather pillow,
a single thin piece of paper
floating from side to side
then settling on the ground in one graceful slide,
it is a wind through a spider's web,
long silk hair tussled by a breeze
....snow is not silent it is discrete,
hiding in the open
....a three year old's sleeping breath,
a tear of joy escaping down a red round cheek
....the sound of snow is
the moment between sleep and consciousness,
fuzzy and both empty of thought and full of promise all at once,
snow is the sound dreams would make if we heard them while awake,
snow is the sound an angel makes as it guides a soul to rest.
The sound of snow
...it's all of these together
or separately
or combined
and sometimes
none of them at all.
This curse should not last too long, I hope. Heavy snow like this impedes ones daily duties; I would not mind it if it returned to a lighter fall, though.
[ooc: Poem located right here; by TP Sage. EDIT: Will tag in the morning. Lost track of time there. ^^;]