Morning after the snowfall

I was always one of those nerds who liked school.  Who was excited in September when school opened -- buying new supplies, studying my schedule, wondering what my new classes would be like, curious as to who would share my classes. 

But even for me -- waking up to snow meant, if we were lucky, no school!

And today was a no school day in Seattle.  And for many adults, if they could get away with it, a no work day.  I don't know how much snow officially fell in Seattle, but my trusty ruler applied to my back deck led me to conclude that we received a solid five inches. 

I'm too old to run out and build a snowman, at least without being accompanied by a minor; but I'm too young to sit inside all day and admire the scene from my window.

And so, at about 10:30 a.m., I laced up my hiking boots, put on an aging ski jacket, slipped on some gloves, and headed out into the chilly (26 degrees) out of doors.  One look at my car, a formless white snowball, had already told me that I wouldn't be driving anywhere for lunch, which gave me a ready-made excuse to hike two miles through the snow to University Village.

We see so little snow in Seattle, that it's easy to forget how enjoyable a walk through the white, fluffy stuff can really be.  The snow beneath your feet crunches and squeaks as you tramp along.  The world is hushed.  Traffic, with its usual noises, is drastically reduced in numbers, and the falling snow muffles all sounds in any event. 

And best of all -- people of all ages are out walking.  Once away from major arterials, enclosed in the network of small streets that make up our Montlake neighborhood, I feel as though I could be walking through a small town a century ago, a town where neighbors smile and say "hi" to each other. Kids are everywhere -- walking with friends in laughing, boisterous groups, or talking excitedly with their parents.  I forget how many families with children now live in my neighborhood.

Some neighbors -- like me, not caring to shovel out their cars -- surprise themselves by actually walking for supplies to the nearest convenience store; snow gives them an excuse to sacrifice for a day a bit of dignity.  Many more are out walking just for the joy of walking.  Young couples walk hand in hand; much older couples shuffle along together; young or old, they all look about with wonder, happy to be out in the crisp morning air.

Forty-five minutes after leaving home, I find myself at my favorite burger joint, ordering a large plate of spaghetti.  Watching the snow fall as I eat, I can -- with sufficient imagination -- pretend I'm lunching in the Italian Alps.  Snow does that to you -- it coats your familiar world with the magic of other worlds, dream worlds.

No more snowfall is forecast until possibly Friday, but what fell today will stay fallen for some time.  Night lows in the mid-20s are forecast for the next ten days.  I'm happy, my neighbors are happy, my cat … eh, not so much.