When I left Kirkland, I found that the snow had continued heavily since I had first arrived earlier in the evening, and where once was pavement, there was now an inch and a half of glittery white. My shoes, which had been fine to wear when there was no snow, suddenly became just a little bit less comfortable. Yet I was grinning from ear to ear as the cold seeped into my socks and permeated my hair; I stared up into the sky and remembered that I've always loved watching weather, even in its most brutal forms. When I was little, I was always on weather's side, never on the people's. I vaguely remember really, really hoping for Hurricane Andrew to hit land. Ah ... it's beautiful outside. I love untouched snow.
I bid thee goodnight.