The snow at night

Ephemera

Today in Boulder, the city shut down for about ten inches of snowfall. Unlike in Cincinnati, people here do not immediately decide that they are going to die as a consequence. There was nobody running around in a frenzy, heading out to the nearest grocery store to buy several bags of flour that, on more sober consideration, they have no idea what to do with.

We ventured out in the afternoon. Most places were closed, including the local Starbuck’s. If Starbuck’s is closed, you know it’s bad. Places that were open: a shoe store, the Boulder Café, the Boulder Book Store, though that last one was closing early due to the snow.

They are plowing the snow off of the streets now. It is night after this day of snow. The crunching of the snow underneath the tractors sounds like fireworks going off some distance away from where I sit. I was wondering what they were celebrating, and why I hadn’t been invited to it.

The Author

I read and I write and I think. I survive.

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