Grey blankets on the ground
Sandwiched under by navy
Sit and watch the silence
Watch it, till it’s pierced
By a single long beep,
As the grey turns to white
And the navy to bright,
And as the soft white underneath
Is tiled by a tarmac sheet
With a beep beep bleep,
The day has begun.
It’s started to snow! I’ve already gone and fallen into a thigh-high pit of snow by walking where I thought there was ground, which is a perfect way to begin the winter season. Here’s to four more months!
You’ve got to keep warm, leave early, brave the winds, activate X-Ray vision to see through the snow, perform the most elaborate rituals to ensure a snowstorm brings down that crucial midterm taking place tomorrow…
It’s definitely an elaborate season. And running around all the time, it’s easy to forget to breathe in, even when you can see your own breath in front of you, and Moreno importantly, to keep warm, in spite of the numerous white reminders tapping on your forehead.
So I decided, in the general spirit of doing good, to make people a little reminder.
I drew it up on a particularly snowy day in my residence dining hall while studying French from a library textbook, and I did, for two whole minutes, seriously consider returning the book with an added token of gratitude slipped inside.
In fact, I’m warming up to the fact again.
(See what I did there?)
So be a nice person today.
Pass this around and remind your friends to keep warm, and above all: snort soup, dress warm and snuggly in your velvet mystic robe, and practice them dark arts of snowing days in!
As my assignment deadline grows nearer and nearer, I am officially getting closer to the rabbit hole.
At this hour of the day, I can’t recall the exact details here, but some aspects of physics don’t really work the way you’d expect them to when you get really close to some powerful landmarks.
Let’s just say my upcoming assignment deadline is a landmark.
Does this look the same to you as it does to me?
According to Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle, you can never know the exact velocity and position of an object. At this point, I’m pretty close to the deadline’s position on my calendar and my momentum is spiralling outwards and out of control.
It suffices to say, things aren’t looking very normal.
Welcome to my city, a place where we simultaneously experience summer and winter. (I refuse to answer any follow up questions about this “summer” I speak of) Sleep deprivation and insomnia. Panic and procrastination. Dead and alive, and Schrödinger and his cat. And my assignment due.
Although fair to say, the whole city doesn’t have an assignment due. But then again, this close to the deadline, I can’t even be sure. What if they do? What if all this mounting ice we’ having is nothing but the entire city crying over their share of my CS assignment? No wonder the snow tastes salty here.
Pass me the maple syrup please!
It’s probably an error, and with the winds it’s probably no more than -7 degrees anyway, and it’s not going to change the fact that we are living in the centre of a giant skating rink that isn’t nearly melting as quick as it piles up, but there we go, this forecast fascinates me. It’s my current state of mind. On repeat for the last five days or so.
You know, when I’d said you would probably never be rid of my endless stream of excited photography, I wasn’t kidding around. The very first of the snow showers has come and gone, and I’ve been busy.
(Clogging up your reader feeds, that is,)
Feast your eyes on this!
My friend said this seemed to belong in a British drama, for some reason. Do you see that happening? Perhaps someone having run and skid across this snow, slipping away from Scotland Yard to hide away in an old, dilapidated Victorian building with carillon bells ringing from a big tower window (Yup, it is actually called a carillon, and I just learned that this month. I can’t just have me going back to plain ol’ ‘church bells’. How bourgeois) as the guy freezes and shakes simultaneously, bells intensifying as the camera whips back and forth from a shot of the panicked man to a troop stained in the colours of the old stained glass windows as we all hold in a breath and wait.
Then it turns out his footprints in the snow practically lead Scotland Yard up to him and we get a very close look at a drop of sweat on our protagonist’s nose (yep, he sure cleaned it out this morning!) before the director decides we deserve to wait another week to know how that ends up.
In fact, it’s quite a European cross-country chase scene. Except they’d probably kick me out of uni for calling that building old. It’s neo-gothic, have some taste.
I don’t know, it’s late, I’m tired I’m generous, I’ll let you come up with your own story for this one; I just get to enjoy this good looking walk home.