I just spent a couple hours looking through job postings, and was well under the cold thick water of discouragement, frustration, and anxiety regarding my chances at successful living here. Then I looked outside and saw snowflakes.
There is a unique stillness to snow.
Passing on bicycle under a highway overpass Monday morning, the sound of relentless and self-important semi trucks of shipping empires overhead was just the murmur of a television turned down a couple rooms away, and the modest whir of my tires was humbled and self-effacing between snow-covered fields.
Maybe my awe at the uncaring and intimate (it’s like a zombie that wants to snuggle) whiteness reveals that I am a nooby to this stuff. Maybe one who has lived at mountainous altitude or monstrous latitude for awhile finds it simply something to deal with, but for me it is still magic.
So I still feel sick to my stomach at the barrier of finding employment here, but in the meantime the gentle drifts are slowly growing on the balcony, and this cup of tea sounds better and better.