Thursday, as I descended into the anatomy lab, snow had just begun to fall. I had watched the flurries fall to the ground six floors below while I waited for my lab mates, and then I disappeared down the stairs into a windowless laboratory to dissect the arteries of the neck. I was excited for the first snow, but I hadn’t been expecting much. The forecast was little more than a dusting, lasting only a little longer than an hour or two.
But, when I came out of lab, I saw the courtyard below and Hudson beyond. And the world had been blanketed in snow.
And it didn’t stop. I ran home, have forgone both a hat and snow-appropriate shoes, and they had already deployed the snow plows. Cars were covered. Shivering, I arrived home and took a hot, hot shower — both meant to wash off the smell of the lab and to warm me up.
Then, I put on more appropriate clothing and went right back out.
And yes, now I’m sick. I could barely swallow yesterday for my sore throat, and I’m still recovering from a head cold.
But guys, it snowed. And it’s my first real New York snow, the first time I have ever seen anything more than an inch fall to the ground, and the first time I could make a snowball that wasn’t comprised mostly of ice, dirt, and pine needles.
I know I’m going to hate it in a month or two. They say it turns brown, that it turns to slush, that you get tired of being cold. But I’m not there yet. And I’m enjoying every moment until I am.