City Of Snow
Last week we had a doozie. The week started bright and warm, the winter seemed far behind us. That was until Monday evening. The pleasant spring weather was dashed overnight, as if stolen by some seasonally twisted Grinch. Rain began to fall as the temperature dropped and ice began to grow around the life forms and structures outside. The coating grew thicker as the Tuesday progressed on.
From building I work within, I could watch the gray sky open and dump sleet and rain throughout the afternoon. I watched as my narrow window grew ever smaller as the ice coated it, hungrily seeking to eat the warmth. The interior was safe, for me at least, but residents were rapidly losing power. Work stood steadfast.
The evening developed into many without energy. My home remained lit, with intermittent flickering that were sure to drive us mad, if not leave us cold and dark. The time between appeared safe and, much like Poltergeist, the flickers were reliable and often traveled in pairs. My housemates and I roused ourselves to keep our minds off the storm and the electricity. Night fell, with guests seeking refuge and sleep seeming impossible.
Wednesday crept up on us without warning, and the cabin fever began to set in. We were land locked, but still operational. No one could escape to their lives, but we made the best of it. We huddled in the apartment, wrapped in a thick layer of ice, now being compounded and compacted by the ever falling snow. Our powerless refugees, thankful for the food and warmth, shared our interest in escaping eventually, and kept ourselves busy.
Outdoors, again, the city was scrambling like mad ants, trying to recover from the unstable road conditions and the mangled falling trees. The weather was a sickness that crept over the foliage and decimated it. It tore limbs free and slaughtered the innocent giants that reached toward the heavens. The cold bore death down on the city.
With the onset of another evening, the cold world hardened. The city made haste and the trapped guests could make their ways back to their newly lit homes. Plows scraped and sirens blared in the distance, dancing in the circle of warning and caution lights. Rest was fast and the night escaped with it. Time seemed to slip away in this second winter.
As Thursday arrived travel was permitted, but things were still treacherous. Schools were closed and jobs were delayed. People jittered like insects struggling to warm up and thrive. Everything seemed dead; the world was covered in the remains of mangled trees and their snowy shrouds. Thank goodness we made it through with power and good company. The only unfortunate affair was that I missed my blogging, I missed my website. Things were in disarray and needed recovery.
Even now the world is still repairing, but I am here, ready to write.