some snowy days are calm and bright and so oddly quiet they make you think words like ‘holy’.
some snows leave they sky white.
but some snowstorms, real snowstorms, bring the dark on early and they are not quiet.
it’s 4:30 now and it’s all dim blues and blacks outside,
you can see that a thickening of snow is building in sheets by how it falls across the light from the apricot streetlight.
all of the doors – the wooden balconies, the rooftop hatch on its hundred-year-old frames- add their rumble to the big banging gusts of wind when they come and in between them you just hear a dull roar.
Though it seems out of place, and though it would be difficult to see it with the wind and wet ice dust in your eyes, there is sometimes thunder in and lighting in snow.