This morning when I first looked out, there was new snow, everywhere a thin white covering, but a vulnerable white, I sensed. And then from somewhere I had the idea that I should watch it, should watch the vulnerability of snow.
So I did. I starting watching. I watched while making breakfast and also while packing Quetzal’s lunch. I watched while walking to and from the barn.
“I’m watching the snow melt,” I told Quetzal as we headed down the mountain.
“I’m still watching,” I told her again as we waited in the line of cars at her school.
She looked me.” You’re weird,” she said. “Really weird.”
“Watching snow melt is the same as watching life melt,” I said. “Is there a difference? No, there’s no difference, zero difference. And if my life is melting I want to see my life melting. Wouldn’t you?”
But Quetzal was already out of the Jeep and calling to her friend.
I waved to the Vice Principle, and again to my friend Sara, and then I drove around the corner to the stop sign. And that’s when I realized I wasn’t watching, that I had forgotten.
So I quick looked all around and instantly understood I had missed significant melting, which really surprised me. And my next surprise was noticing how the snow increased as I drove back up Saddleback Mountain.
But it was going fast, a lost cause. When I backed into the barn and purposefully looked away for three full minutes, and then turned back, it was obvious, and kind of alarming, maybe. The word ephemeral comes to mind. Be ye therefore aware comes to mind. Gather ye rosebuds while ye may comes to mind.