Snow globe

I didn't have a car today because my son is home and we were all jockeying for possession of a vehicle. He drove me to work so that he had some freedom to come and go today.

Sheepishly, I asked around at work if anyone could drive me home. I actually had 2 offers, and I took the one that left the earliest.

As I was getting ready to pack up I looked outside the office and it was, of course, dark but it was also absolutely, stunningly beautiful. The snowflakes were huge, they were falling at what appeared to be a slow rate of speed (I know, I know that doesn't make sense), and the big spotlights at my office were illuminating the trees and flakes in such a way that the world outside the window seemed surreal; like I was looking into a vast snow globe. And I thought : "I love Buffalo". The feeling was evoked certainly because of the beauty but also because I was, at that moment, standing in the building where I work (a gorgeous piece of architecture on Delaware Ave.), I had a particularly productive day,  and I had two offers to drive me home... from two women I really, really like.

The woman who drove me home is a great driver, and she has one of those SUVs that feels substantial and safe and secure. When I shut the door after we brushed the snow off the vehicle, I got that snow globe feeling again. The beauty, the safety and the camarderie combined for a sublime sense of contentment.

The first night Bill cooked for me at his house was a snow globe night. I remember walking to his house from my flat with a sense of anticipation and wariness. I also remember thinking how much I loved Buffalo then and how glad I had moved here. As I knocked on his door, I could see inside his front window, where the fire was burning and the table was set. I shook off the snow from my hat, walked out of the snow globe world and into a new one.