Today was one of those days that I forgot the difference between Port Jervis's version of "Light Snow" and Oswego's version of "Light Snow." I walked to work with my club nintendo Starman tote bag, with all of my work inside it unprotected from the elements. Not to mention all the snow that oh-so-conveniently gathered where the zipper is on my otherwise water resistant laptop case. Between one hall and the campus center, it just... well... the "light" snow began. It was flurries before that.
I'm going to have to get used to this, because eventually I plan to move off campus. I'll have to walk to school almost daily in the snow, rain, wind -- crappiest of weathers, if I can't catch the bus (or in some cases, if it is not safe to catch the bus.)
But there is beauty in this situation. With a closer look, I notice how the snow isn't soft and light as it was when I set out. The air is cold enough so that what once were flakes are now in a state between snow and hail. The sound it makes on the sidewalk or even on the hood of my coat is strange; It is as if with the passing of each winter, I forget the sound and have to be reminded. This is the strangest part -- in listening to the tune these half-hail, half-snow bits make, the rest of the world is tuned out. It is cold, but I barely feel it. It is though I am completely immersed in whatever piece the natural world around me is performing. I forget that it is difficult to climb the hill to my job in such weather at my stature. I am not afraid as I slip and lose my balance a bit because I am wearing sneakers with hardly any traction. For a moment, despite all that is wrong with how I prepared for today, I am supposed to be out in the weather like this. I was supposed to hear this song.
Most would have been more annoyed or upset than I found myself being. Sure, I was stuck out in what Port Jervis would consider "Heavy Snow," and I was ill prepared to protect that which I had to bring with me to work and class -- but it was worth it. It was so worth it. I wonder how many other times I had been in the middle of a concert with the Earth as the conductor? I don't recall writing down how I felt in the past about these sorts of musical performances. Perhaps I'll make a note of this more often in the future.