The Snow of Gods

Snow drifts into the east coast, threatening to cover the beltway in a layer of vanilla frosting 12 to 15 inches thick. I can’t wait. Michelle and I are hungry for a covering from the gods. We’ve been waiting all year. And it just keeps falling and falling and falling… on the west coast. It’s like a freight train, steamrolling the Cascade Mountains, pounding British Columbia and leaving New England to fend for itself. Tonight, they tell us, that it is all over. “They” are the weathermen and woman who predict such things. And I’m counting on them. We need snow. We want snow. And we, hopefully, will have it. At least for a day. Then it can go back to touching the bottom of all our friends’ boards and skis in the Northwest. But tonight, it’s ours. Here’s to tonight.