Last week, I arrived in Philadelphia in the middle of a snow storm. I had a major emergency and had to hop a train to get there. I knew ahead of time that snow was expected so I was prepared, or so I thought. Turns out, I forgot my gloves but that’s no big deal. At any rate I was not at all ready for the cold of this weather; especially since I’ve spent so much time outside in it. I have trudged through the snow for food, to visit the purpose for this impromptu trip and to shop. And I have enjoyed almost every moment of it.
It’s my fault really because I had been lamenting the lack of “real winter” in Northeastern North Carolina. I was born in December, I’m a winter baby, I normally love it, even walking in the snow and especially wearing my winter coats which I don’t get the chance to do that often in my little corner of North Carolina. A few nights ago as I was making a quick visit to Whole Foods and Target I lamented the existence of dirty snow. I actually uttered the title of this post because in the winter I don’t think that there’s anything more beautiful than freshly fallen snow. And nothing sadder than the dirty pileups found at the curbs.