this is not about books, but. winter made me smile. a few times. and that doesn’t happen often.

A small child with a bowl cut running around an uncrowded East Village restaurant in full body snow pants. Also, the yellow walls and good people I was talking to there.

Multiple, separate, grown men who ran their fingers through untouched snow on a ledge in Midtown.

Bowery almost completely quiet in a snowstorm.

Eating fistfulls (yes, plural) of snow as I made my way home 8th Avenue in Park Slope. Because it was coming down so fast and I trusted there were no pollutants.  And it reminded me of Ohio snow.  And I liked it.

Hearing my landlord shovel the sidewalk and remembering all of the 6 am wake up calls my brother and I had to clear our driveway, whether we had a snow day or not.  Then rolling over and being thankful I didn’t have to shovel today.

Prospect Park+over a foot of new snow+children sledding everywhere+evening light (albeit at 5 pm).  LOVE.

And, my students’ artwork in response to “Do Not Go Gentle” by Dylan Thomas. It makes my room so bright I can barely contain myself.

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