I took this picture today. It was my first experience with a snowpocalypse. I was prepared for this. I went to the market and picked up enough food. I got my snowpocalypse wine because duh. I filled my car with gas in case of emergencies (like I was going to be able to get out of my driveway for the next 2 days). I canceled my trip to LA.
.... And then it didn't snow.
Just kidding, it did! So this morning I bundled up, went outside, and enjoyed it with my pup like the snowpocalypse virgin I am. It was cold and wet, and white... But the most striking thing to me were the drifts in the snow. I couldn't decide if it looked more like the desert sand or the calm water in some bay, but it didn't matter because both meant home.
It's a funny thing, this life we live.
Somehow, someway, I've ended up here, in a place that is so incredibly different than where I grew up for so long. Sometimes, here and there seem worlds apart- but ever so often, these little resemblances come flooding in. Like I might have left home, but it hasn't left me and it creeps it's way into my thoughts in the most bizarre way.
The sound of the wind barreling through the tree is almost indistinguishable from sound the ocean beating against the sand in the late evening. And sometimes, in the summer, I can hear a faint lawnmower -and the air is just warm and still and dry enough, that for a second I'm back in my old neighborhood sunbathing in the back yard. And now, even the snow makes me feel like I'm home.... On the other hand, it could just be the cabin fever talking!