Soft Blanket of Snow

The snow is like a soft blanket. It quiets the city. Like White Out erasing my screen, erasing these words as I type them. We have had the crunch of salt beneath our boots for a week. It felt like the salt was disappointed. It did not get to do its magic “make the snow vanish” act. And now the snow is piling up and the salt won’t be enough. It will need additional reinforcements. Poor beleaguered salt, can never win.

I have to run to the store now. To buy more hot cocoa. The kids are waking up. They are looking out the window. Eyes round. “Look out your window!” they call to one another.

I have to put the sleds by the front door. And find matching pairs of gloves.

I want to curl up in a soft blanket of snow. I want to put on a movie, one of those Netflix films I never get to.  Make popcorn. But I will be out in the blizzard. By the big hill in Riverside Park, watching the kids. Or maybe we’ll go to Central Park.

And, of course, I will take some runs down a hill too. If I can wrest the sleds from their clutches. Then we will come home and I will make them hot cocoa. I will try to make good memories of the blizzard of 2010. But wait. I am not in charge of their memories. I did not make this storm. The blizzard just blanketed the city. I did not have to do anything. Just look out my window.

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