In the depths of winter I finally learned
there was in me an invincible summer.
-Albert Camus
We had a light dusting of snow this morning. For a minute there it looked like it might stick around for awhile. After the first 15 minutes it covered the lawns and topped the trees. Driving became difficult for a half hour or so because visibility became dotted with thick, fleecy flakes. By mid-day the clouds had cleared and all trace of white was gone.
Always unexpected, any snowfall in Portland is a welcome change from the constant rain. Snow brings out the kids who yell and scream as if Santa or Justin Bieber, his damn self, was standing on the street corner. Inside, I'm quietly squealing a bit myself. One of my friends mentioned on a Facebook post that the snow, brief as it was,coincided with his reading of the names of the dead in the Newtown, Connecticut school shooting. He went on to say it helped him cry through his reading of the list. I can see how that might be. Snow can be emotional.
I know we need more than a dusting of snow right now, but I'll take whatever comes down from above. Maybe it's a start. Maybe the sheer gentleness of big delicate, freezing flakes is what it takes to ease an aching mind. This may be all we get. Even so, it came at a most opportune time. To have this fragile reminder that each day is different and that something as simple as frosty dust can bring out inner children as well as a handful of six year olds is comforting. The latest report says we might get e snow shower tonight. It goes on to say that most of the flakes will fall between two and six a.m. Don't think I'll be up for that but I will have something to look forward to in the morning.
The first time I saw graffiti that was memorable was in a middle school bathroom. As 6th graders I often walked home with friends by the middle school we'd soon be attending. A stop by the boys bathroom near the boys gym placed me face to face with a piece of graffiti that immediately madame and my friends laugh uncontrollably. On the wall above the urinals, was penned a short poem that read" This is a Teepee to take a pee pee, Not a wigwam to beat your tom tom 14 year-old humor at it's best. The laughter my friends and I experienced was cathartic. Being bottom of the barrel Freshmen could have dire consequences in the boys bathroom. Those unpleasantries would come later, but for the moment, we were ecstatic and proceeded to read all the g...

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