The sound of snow falling from trees.
That has a romantic ring to it, N'est pas?
Delicate, fleeting, ephemeral...
Truth be told, living under the canopy in Truckee, after a couple days of snow, one gets the distinct impression that some person, or persons, are dropping shovel loads of wet cement, from several stories up, onto ones roof.
All day long. Or maybe sacs of soggy laundry.
From the sound, it could be canvas bags of freshly minted hundred dollar bills.
But it's not. I went up and checked.
Anyway, you get used to it.
But I'll tell you something amazing to see.
You get a couple days of snowfall, and the storm starts to move out. Patchy blue sky. The sun peaking out, looking timidly around.
All the trees heavily laiden, branches drooping under the fresh powder.
And then one of those monstrous winds that this town is so famous for, comes screaming up from the south and for a couple minutes,
the air is filled with horizontal snowflakes the size of your fist.
It is really something to see.
And best just resign yourself to the fact that one of those boughs of soggy powder has your name on it.
It'll probably get you when your trudging in with the groceries.
Or better yet...
Just as you blow a kiss to the girl you just took out for pizza...
as she is driving away...
laughing hysterically.
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