5 descriptions

1.      Simply

There had yet to be a snowstorm in the city. After the storm, the trees stood proudly, covered in snow. The light hit the snow, making it sparkle.

2.      Excessively

Just the day before, the land was dormant and mushy with the gloomy uncertainty of a season not yet fully expressed. Suddenly, a blizzard hit with a merciless passion! How I cowered and cringed at the sight, nesting myself in layers of mismatched blankets. Only now do I realize my foolishness in protesting what I thought to be icy violence. Only now do I see what loving tenderness a winter storm may bring. There is a stillness that bounces off the crystals, a monastic air where ice meets sunlight. And the trees! Their inner grace and charm was so hidden, before, in their leafless mourning. Now they wear the snowy glittering and stand so tall. With purpose! With pride!

3.      Vaguely

When a winter may become itself, it acts inconsiderate of flora and fauna. It establishes its presence in a deadly, crystallized coating. Only now, after the storm, am I aware of its delicate, nurturing hand. The glistening land greets me with the sacred comfort of Christmas day or wooden floors and high ceilings. My spirits soar with the cheerful dance of so many graceful branches, ornamented.

4.      Precisely

A week and three months had gone by in the city of Rochester with the same grey stagnancy. Sure, just a week before the storm, there was a light, fluffy dusting, but those millions of snowflakes were much too kind, much too delicate, to survive very long. The first snowstorm of the season descended upon the city mercilessly. The winds ravaged the land, tugging and tearing off stubborn scarves, uprooting naive sidewalk weeds and sproutlings. How they taunted me; thrusting and thrashing against my window in brutal arrogance! I nested myself in mismatched blankets: the one I got when I was born, the one my aunt crocheted for me, the one I bought at Kmart because I liked the brown paisley pattern. I hadn’t planned to spend most of Friday wrapped up in blankets, but how I could leave the warmth of my nest and attempt to step into that icy war zone?

No, it wasn’t until the storm began to subside, the snowfall gentle, even inviting, that I decided to venture out and observe the damage. It must have been cold out. I could feel my thighs burn in protest under my worn, thin jeans. But it was not enough to hurry my footsteps. I was captivated, entranced by what seemed like some miracle born of torment.

 It was the trees, actually, the ones that lined the path to Carlson Library. Just the day before, they seemed gaunt and emaciated, with nothing to hold or nurture in their fingertips.  These clouds of delicate crystals lay so peacefully there, now, tenderly, refracting lullaby sunbeams. And the trees were rejuvenated, bearing their new fruits proudly. How could I rush inside, then, ten majestic trees lining my path, shimmering?

5.      Purposefully

Having spent every winter of my life in unforgiving climates, I was tired of that particular experience and all of the burdens that come with it. I was applying to graduate school programs and found myself daydreaming of places like Miami, or Los Angeles. Yes, I could see myself going to the beach in middle of November, and not traveling through tunnel systems just to get by. It had really been a mild winter, up until the storm, so I guess I couldn’t complain. Just the same, I did, about the lack of sunlight, about the wet, stagnant ickiness of it all. And then the storm hit.

I awoke to a call from the office, where I work, telling me that, given the storm, I could work from home that day, if I preferred. I managed to utter some grateful mutterings, just before hanging up and looking out my window. It was awful, as far as winter storms are concerned. The wind thrashed at my window in a steady, menacing rhythm. The medical center and library were barely visible behind sheets of murderous snow grenades. Yeah, I decided, I was not having any of that on a Friday. I wrapped myself up in all of the blankets I could find and closed my eyes. Coconuts, palm trees, mangos, and ocean waves.

And I might have stayed like that all day, too, had I not scheduled a coffee date for that evening. Luckily, the storm had subsided by then, and I figured I might stay warm if I walked briskly. As soon as I stepped outside, I could tell that something had changed. There was a stillness.

Nothing could express it better than those trees, the ones that line the path to the library. There were so barren, so sad and empty the day before. And now the snow coated them with purpose. They cradled those mounds of snow tenderly. Yeah, that very same snow that just before had seemed so lethal. Now it struck me as newborn, meek and beautiful, the snow. I realized what a sacred scene it all was, how foolish and short-sighted I had been. And I thought- well, I just couldn’t give it all up for some ocean waves and palm trees.