In Which Snow is Softly Falling

Before the roads turn slushy and slick… 

Before grey skies loom so pervasive that gloom seeps into the soul, obscuring the memory of sunshine… 

Before the drifts stain with brown and black (occasionally yellow)… 

There is a certain pristine magic to snow. A certain silence rich in hushed affirmation of beauty even in the bleakest weather. A gathering of white crystals tracing inky branches with a layer of lovely.  A bracing pause. A season. A something more that isn’t yet but soon. A wet whisper that clings to your coat, your hair, your eyelashes–but melts when you step inside the door. 

   
    
   

In Which My Ex-Physicist Provides Snow Sanctuary

It began as a normal weekday, save for the fact that snow was falling. Yep, you read that right: snow. In Mid-April. (Apparently, Winter never got the whole “out like a lamb” memo that was supposed to take place in March. If I ever find that deceitful little groundhog….)

I mentioned it began as a normal workday, right?

But that’s not *actually* true Continue reading “In Which My Ex-Physicist Provides Snow Sanctuary”

In Which Weather is Symbolic and Details are Discretionary

Since my employment in August, there have been only three occasions when I have cried at work:

The first was when I was given conflicting information and the grand run-around for why I was not yet a full-time employee after being told I simply had to finish 300 hours with the temp agency.

The second, when I was reprimanded for something I had been told was well done the day prior.

And the third was last week.

Continue reading “In Which Weather is Symbolic and Details are Discretionary”