Good idea

Take long walks in stormy weather or through deep snows in the fields and woods, if you would keep your spirits up. Deal with brute nature. Be cold and hungry and weary.

The great affair is to move

I want to go bike riding down by the lake, but my computer keeps reminding me that it's right around 0 degrees, with a wind chill of 15 or 20 below. Seems like I'd regret the idea pretty quickly. I think I'll have to wait a few days.

Snow storm

Maybe it's because I grew up in Texas, but there's something about snow. Right now flakes are falling deliberately and quickly, but earlier it was sparse puffy flakes floating down. And these little mercurial messengers always dance to the music. Liszt's Liebesträume plays softly in the background as the white dots slowly and softly paint the street in choreographed harmony.

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,
And veils the farmhouse at the garden's end.
The sled and traveler stopped, the courier's feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.

Come see the northwind's masonry.
Out of an unseen quarry evermore
Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer
Curves his white bastions with projected roof
Round every windward stake, or tree, or door.
Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work
So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he
For number or proportion. Mockingly,
On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths;
A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn;
Fills up the farmer's lane from wall to wall,
Maugre the farmer's sighs; and at the gate,
A tapering turret overtops the work.
And when his hours are numbered, and the world
Is all his own, retiring, as he were not,
Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art
To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone,
Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work,
The frolic architecture of snow.

Today's high in the middle 20's

Tonight's low in the middle to upper teens.

Brrr

Nival beauty

Learned a new word. No need for a thesaurus today. ;)

Snow

Snow is supposed to accumulate today. How wonderful, it has already done so more than in the past this winter. It is beautiful, sparkly, powdery, white, snow. People say the novelty of this will wear off, but I'm not so sure. It seems magical every time. Today will be an excellent day. Beautiful snow.

Just so it doesn't seem like I'm turning into a weatherman, I should add more... but it seems that the number of things which I would like to mention which I cannot in this venue has grown of late. I understand ever more why sugardickdaddy opted for a real journal. I've contented myself to writing random thoughts on pieces of scratch paper rather than maintaining a separate real-life type outlet. It also occurs to me my recent posts have been so infrequent, I doubt anyone reads this anymore aside from those few who have livejournals themselves.

As for school, I feel unfulfilled lately. Everyone's always busy and with the same old stuff. All people talk about is math. Granted I don't always have great other things to talk about but...

C'est la vie.

Anyways, beautiful happy snow. Who could ask for anything more?

Beautiful beautiful snow

I walked home about an hour ago. Late night and all with some of the analysis and such things. But it was snowing. The snow sparkled on the ground, as if it were glittered with bits of shiny silvery glitter. I can tell this will be a wonderful day.

And regarding my last entry, it wasn't so bad. Apparently only 2 first yrs attended the party. Rob says I was missed at happy hour. But a lot of my favorite people showed up at the office this weekend.

All is copacetic.