I awoke to a world painted in shades of milk

I forgot how much I love the snow.

Granted, it doesn’t suit my equatorial genotype, but God, I swear I love the pristine and crisp freshness of it all.

The landscape is overlain with a fatal beauty, you know looking at it that in this desert of frozen white sands, you could die. There is a danger lying beneath the beauty of it all. And it chills your spine, it sucks the heat from your chest and limbs.

But by God I swear, it is all beautiful. And quiet. And still.

For the first time in years I’m glad, however, that I’m no longer in DC. An Ohio modest 6 inches is much nicer than the 24 inch wrath of God dumped on-top of DC.  My Grandma’s afraid that her roof may cave in from the weight, and Yasin tells me Metro service was at a halt.

So I’ll enjoy the modest disaster here in Cincy, and feel gratitude that things aren’t as bad as on the East Coast.

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