It's snowing outside right now. It's not quite cold enough — it's only 37 degrees — and the snow isn't sticking; just melting when it hits the ground, making the streets and sidewalks look wet.
I've been sitting by my windows, drinking coffee and listening to Debussy , watching the snow float down to the ground and vanish. It's quite soothing from this vantage, though I'm sure it won't be as nice when I walking through the gray to the subway. But that's why they make trench coats, scarves, and boots.
Yes, it's cold outside, and, yes, come January, I will be daydreaming about "warm" 30-degree days … but I've honestly been looking forward to this moment for months. At work, Beverly has been poking fun at me because every time we'd get the weather page for the last two weeks, I'd ask if it's going to snow. That led to her to turn the tables.
"Think it's going to snow tonight, Robert?" she would ask in a playful voice that implied the question was merely rhetorical.
"Why, do you think it will, Beverly?" I would respond, the eagerness in my voice quite audible.
"We'll see!" she would say, and we'd rehearse this routine each night around 8:30.
Well, it's snowing now ... and I'm happy.
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