A Memory

Here I am, exhausted, and blogging instead of sleeping.
I guess that's life. I never do get to bed as early as I tell myself I should.

It's wet outside tonight, but not really raining. I wouldn't even say it's misting, because in the walk from my apartment to the ward building I only felt one drop and no wetness. But as I was walking out to ward prayer this evening, the streetlights and the overcast sky reminded me of the weather on a similar night about fourteen years ago.

There's no real point to this, as usual. Just a writing exercise.

I was in seventh grade, and I was walking home from either a choir concert or maybe a play rehearsal. (I was in both General Music that year, as well as the school musical: I was a munchkin in The Wizard of Oz.)

Anyway, the northwest side of Cyprus High school had some relocatable classrooms and a parking lot. I always walked through the high school, since it was the most direct route home. Probably my tendency to walk by myself in the dark stems from this time. It probably wasn't the safest thing for a twelve year-old to walk alone in the dark on the streets of Magna, but at the time I was completely oblivious to the danger. I sometimes think my naivety has been a protection to me: nothing ever happened.

That parking lot was very empty that night, and it was usually pretty dark. But it was that time of year when the sky is always overcast with clouds ready to snow, and they were glowing with that peculiar luminescence that snow clouds have. I always wonder if the clouds reflect the street lights from below or filter the moonlight from above.

This night, it was actually snowing, and while my description hasn't been very clear, my memory is. I was wearing the purple jacket that I had until after college, and there was a very light dusting of snow on the asphalt. I was high off the performance and enjoying the solitude and the cold. The streetlights were the yellow glowing kind, and the snowflakes were just drifting down on that windless night. I must have taken a minute to hold my arms out and slowly spin around, and when I looked up I was standing directly under the streetlight.

Do you know what it looks like when the air itself freezes? The spaces around the snowflakes were filled with shimmering, sparkling glitter. It is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen, and probably accounts for the many winter nights since then that I have spent in similar activities. I still walk alone in the dark on such nights, and I always feel bemused and at peace when I see the frozen air and the falling snow. You may be dreading the snow, but I am looking forward to a few more nights of glittering peace in the dim but not dark nights of Utah winter.