I woke up this morning to find a light dusting of snow on the ground. Getting snow in Eugene is rather rare- it only happens a couple times a year. Having never lived in the snow, I can appreciate the beauty of the delicate flakes lightly falling to the ground, slowly accumulating to form a glistening layer of white. There is something about the utter silence of snowfall that makes it so enchanting.
Snowflakes begin to cover my jacket, my gloves, my hair and eyelashes- each one made up of tiny structures only visible up close. Cars drive by slowly, afraid that if they go too fast they might slip on the barely-there powder on the streets. The cloud cover makes the air feel warmer despite the snow falling from the sky. Every California girl is hoping this will continue long enough to start a small snowball fight or make a tiny snowman.
But alas, the snow stops after only an hour. The dust on the ground begins to melt, dashing all hopes of a winter playground. The day becomes normal again- cold and wet.
The coffeehouse is warm, almost too warm. The tables are filled with people- students doing homework, graduate students working on a thesis, families out for a holiday breakfast, and chatty old ladies socializing with one another over coffee. Only one table is open, where I set my laptop down and begin working, forgetting all about my wishes for a snow day.
