Since the dawn of man, all humans have known someone who had a friend who was a flight attendant. Here, now, I am that friend.Snowstorm!
You might infer from the title of this entry that there's been a lot of snow here lately. Or if you don't trust your power of inference, just look at this picture:
That may not look like much snow. But that's before I invoke the principle of foreshortening, something my seventh grade art teacher taught me, which is the technique of drawing things badly to convey depth. There's actually three feet in this picture; two are mine, and the third is the foot of snow I'm standing in.
To me there's still something a little magical about blundering out of bed at noon and opening the blinds and seeing, instead of the winter-free Louisiana sky you're expecting, a fluffy snowdrift. So after staring at that for a while a few days ago, I decided to get out in it. There's a cemetery across the street, and across the street is outside, so there I went.
It was like walking around in an Edgar Allen Poe greeting card. Beautiful and morbid all at the same time. I realized while I was out in it that you don't really want to be out in snow. It stings. So I went back inside. But I did leave some footprints, enough of them to justify the purchase of snowboots.
That may not look like much snow. But that's before I invoke the principle of foreshortening, something my seventh grade art teacher taught me, which is the technique of drawing things badly to convey depth. There's actually three feet in this picture; two are mine, and the third is the foot of snow I'm standing in.To me there's still something a little magical about blundering out of bed at noon and opening the blinds and seeing, instead of the winter-free Louisiana sky you're expecting, a fluffy snowdrift. So after staring at that for a while a few days ago, I decided to get out in it. There's a cemetery across the street, and across the street is outside, so there I went.
It was like walking around in an Edgar Allen Poe greeting card. Beautiful and morbid all at the same time. I realized while I was out in it that you don't really want to be out in snow. It stings. So I went back inside. But I did leave some footprints, enough of them to justify the purchase of snowboots.
posted by Phil at 11:33 AM
5 Comments:
Snow is so cozy. I envy you. Here it is hot and humid and everyone is out drinking in the streets for Carnaval. And here I am on the couch.
Random question - what is wind stream?
Don't worry, until you have a separate set of tires for winter, you can always claim to be from Louisiana.
Sandtalker
Aku: Look up cozy. Also, being from Mardi Gras country, I feel compelled to tell you that if everyone is out drinking in the streets, your place is not on the couch.
And where did you hear windstream? I wrote that the other day, but not here. Spooky.
Sand: Look for a blog entry soon about what happens in the mountains when you don't have snow tires...
I can see akutyger's point as long as: a) snow's on the OUTside and, b) you're on the INside with a fireplace and the beverage of your choice. L.M.
OH.
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