Driving to work on the abandoned snow-covered roads this morning was beautiful. An urban landscape. The drive was easier than yesterday, when each of us looked out and hoped that the weather would show us mercy. I stopped, exiting my vehicle. The crisp echo of my feet on the accumulated snow reminded me of tiny packing bubbles. The sound was louder than the footsteps of an inebriated teenager attempting to quietly enter the house without waking anyone. I wanted to let the cold embrace me and take a long walk. I’m sure I looked a little odd, walking fast on the road. For a moment though, the road, perhaps for a mile in either direction, had only me on top of it. I returned to my car, and drove to work, resenting that I couldn’t pass an hour exuberantly walking the solitary streets. Though I’m doing my relentless paces here, I’m still out there, looking up at the luminescence that only snow can bring to 2:00 a.m. When you’re young, those kind of moments seem preposterous. And when you’re older, you just accept them as the rare though mundane moments that they are.
PS Each of us probably nicknames our neighbors. Erika and I nicknamed one of ours Shirtless Dad. If you’re guessing he acquired the moniker because he does indeed walk about shirtless, you would be right. And no, he definitely is not Brad Pitt. Late yesterday afternoon, when I walked back over to my apartment for a moment, I saw that he was going to check his mail. He remembered to take his postal key, but forgot his shirt. It tickled me so much that I called Erika on Alexa. That’s what prompted her to go sit on the landing barefoot and take a video. She didn’t capture his lunacy. That was another small and stupid moment that tickled me. You take your moments where you can find them.