Snow is drifting up against the concrete of the walkways on campus like small, potent items from yesterday; not used, but seen and examined and appreciated. Kept close to the places we walk, our past crowds the edges of life; hemming it in from damaging the underlying and surrounding green, resisting the future sun, and zealously reclaiming lost ground with new snowfall.

I love this cold. You appreciate the slightest light of the sun when it doesn't help to keep you warm, just allows your skin, for just a moment, to remember summer.