Snow Poetry

I found this poem that I had written last year on October 2. The first snow of the year was October 1, and I had been in the village all that day (Akiak, if I remember correctly), so the morning of the 2nd was the first morning that I walked to work after it had snowed.



There was hardly a dusting on the ground, but I had been helping out with volleyball practice in the morning, so, at 7:45am, I found myself going from the gym at BRHS over to TWC, and walking in the still and the quiet, I found this:

Today I walked to work
and whiteness brushed my face
landed on my nose and eyelashes
My hands reached
for cold
and warmth
and the beat went on
in my head
in my feet
in my heart
And I thought
I could stay here for a minute
for a day
forever
or...

Today I walked to work
as the snow fell.


Today is December 2. Exactly one year and two months after I wrote that. And in my commute to work this morning, I was thinking about all the differences. We haven't had any snow here, and I honestly kind of can't believe that it's December already...it's not very cold. As I remember, people kept telling me that Newark winters were the worst, but it's weird to not have snow now (in AK for one year, and here I am, expecting snow everywhere haha).

It was interesting to see that even in October, I had already fallen in love a little bit with Bethel, with Alaska, maybe just with the snow, but it was there.

And now here I am in New Jersey, desperately trying to figure out if I'm a "city girl" or ...well, or not. Yes, I love the drive in big cities - the energy - the lights, the action that is always happening. But I found that I also love the quiet, the whispers, the darkness, and the community that Newark, New York, San Francisco, Boston, DC can't offer. And the snowflakes landing on ground that doesn't "belong" to anyone - it is the earth - it "belongs" to all of us.

The search goes on...
The possibilities for next year are looming, opportunities starting to knock, and early as it seems, decisions are needing to be made. I both welcome and dread making them.

I wonder when it will snow here.

Love,