My favorite part of a big snow day? The unplowed street on that first evening. The storm has wound down. The snow plows haven’t yet come by – they have bigger roads to plow and the neighborhoods must be patient. But, a snow day never stops people’s needs and the people have to move. And so they have. All day long. The movement has created a mish-mash of snowy mess on my street that is absolutely stunning. The ruts and the clods and the tire treads, the footprints, the melty parts. For the first 24 hours, the neighborhood streets fend for themselves in a snowstorm and they tell a story.

Tonight, about 3 a.m., the snowplow is going to come through my ‘hood. It will make a distinct, coarse, scraping sound as it carves a central line down the middle of my street. Clods of snow will be shoved indiscriminately to the left and to the right. There will be no witnesses – it will be 3 a.m. And just like that, the DNA of my neighborhood will be wiped clean. Ready to start anew with a uniform path back out into the world, furrowed by that piece of metal backed by a motor. Routine will start again because we can’t stop time.

Snow imprints parts of your LIFE for just a short bit. And then it melts to create room for something new. How beautiful is that???