You remember that part in Serendipity when John Cusack's character is lying on the ice rink watching the snow fall above him?
I had a moment like that.
But instead, I was driving 40mph towards home down a lonely stretch of road with no other headlights interfering with my view.
It was beautiful.
Like I was in a time warp. Just me, zooming through the snow. Or like bright white fireworks, exploding beautifully at just the right moment. Right before my eyes.
I love the snow.
Well, I love it in moderation. A good snowfall once (maybe twice) a year would be perfect for me. I think about how I love the way it looks, feels, and sometimes even how it tastes. Then I remember that snow is just recycled frozen water that was probably pissed on at one time or another.
I retract that I like the taste.