January 22, 2005
The snow was magnificent today, lying thick and heavy across everything; piling up so quickly that it threatened to bring the entire city to a standstill. Today was the kind of day you wished you were a kid again, able to forgo your plans for a day spent on a sled hurtling down hills at speeds much too thrilling to be safe. But for me, it was mostly a day spent inside, trapped in a large but windowless office, only able to imagine the wonders taking place outside.
"Because of the way the wind is blowing, it looks like it's snowing upside down," wrote Janice in a mid-day e-mail--she was also locked in at work on a Saturday, thoughtfully reporting the view through her office window. In an update later in the day she wrote, "It is no longer snowing upside down, but rather sideways. I guess that's an improvement."
Well after midnight and still with work to finish, I decided to take a break and see what the day had truly looked like. Bleary-eyed, I ventured out into the silence of a sleeping, snow-covered city. I walked along a street untouched by car tires, foot-deep boot prints slowly trailing out behind me, and breathed in the sharp, cold air. It felt good, so crisp and cold and fresh, and I walked for a block or two in silence, just breathing and listening to the soft, tinny crunch of snow beneath my feet.