It snowed eight inches in Cambridge on Friday, as predicted. I’d kept an eye on the forecast, pulled out my snow boots, bundled up in all the right gear. But I was not ready.
After last winter’s record-breaking 108 inches of snow (that’s nine feet, people), most New England residents are greeting the weather forecast with a little trepidation these days. Even though we’ve had some shockingly mild spells, and this snow was mostly falling on bare ground, I still expected the usual slew of snow-related problems: icy sidewalks, bitter winds, slushy streets, possible train delays.
I didn’t want to walk out there and face it. But I had to.
These past few months have been a tough stretch for me, and for several people I love. We’re all dealing with the present reality or the aftermath of hard things: surgery, illness, uncertainty in our personal and professional lives. We wake up and face them because we have to, and we get through the day somehow, but at the end, it is still winter.
My sister is still on crutches after her knee surgery; my friends’ grown daughter still has cancer. I am still job hunting. We are all hanging in, bearing things we’d rather not have to bear, hoping for a glimpse of good news.
And yet.
On Friday, I arrived at the office to find I wasn’t alone, as I had feared I might be; about half of my colleagues had made it in. We spent a quiet, convivial, productive morning, watching the snow swirl down outside Sarah’s office window.
It felt like being inside a snow globe, and at lunch I walked out to the scene above. I made my way down the street to Darwin’s, for a sandwich and chitchat with the staff, and returned to work feeling nourished in several ways.
Later that afternoon, I threw on my coat, picked up a library book that needed returning, and headed over to the Yard. It is difficult to overstate my love for this particular patch of ground: I love it in all seasons, and it’s stunning in the snow.
I walked down snowy sidewalks through Old Yard, past Widener Library and over to Lamont, where I returned my book and picked up another one. I stopped every few yards to marvel, sliding off my glove and snapping photos of buildings and trees limned with fluffy snow.
I am not a lover of cold and snow by nature. Given the choice, I’d prefer a mild spring evening or a crisp autumn day when the trees blaze red instead of standing out in black and white. But this winter wonderland has its own charms. And I was so grateful, on Friday, to be out in it, enjoying it. (I was equally glad to go back inside, where it was warm and dry.)
Worried about a messy evening commute, I left work a little early, only to find that the snow had stopped when I reached my neighborhood. The sky was tinted a delicate sunset pink, and the rosy light on the branches of the trees next to the subway station took my breath away.
I would rather not have to bear the frustrations of winter (and I’m watching the forecast carefully, since more cold and snow are on their way). And I am so ready for the job hunt to be over. But both of them also possess some lovely silver – or, occasionally, rose-tinted – linings.
Rose-tinted linings. Lovely. Beautiful thought to carry into Monday.
Beautiful photos! I’ve been to this area and Boston and loved it but I know your winters can be difficult. I love the snow in Minnesota that we have now but my favorite as well is a Spring or Autumn day. I couldn’t live somewhere where there wasn’t four definite seasons – each season always seems new when it comes upon us. Happy Monday and best wishes job hunting – I know you’ll find a job you love.
Thanks. Yes, I do love the seasons here!
The seasons fill a life with memories, and a time-line for when we share those memories. The first 30 years of my life I lived with the four seasons, but have lived without discernible seasons for the past 20. I miss them so much. Thank you for sharing your story, and your beautiful photos.
Katie, these pictures are lovely. You’ve encouraged me to see the beauty in less-than-ideal circumstances–and yet the beauty is there.
It is – though I agree it is hard to see it sometimes.
Thank you for this excellent reminder that sometimes we just HAVE TO, and in that having-to, there can be a different kind of grandeur, and lessons wrapped up in snow, or silvered by light. xo
Yes. I knew you’d understand this. xo
Lovely musings as usual, and what beautiful pictures. We have had a mild winter here, too, which we have really needed after last year’s ridiculous snowfalls – I’m with you! But we also have some snow coming this week and some cold temperatures after that, which I am dreading. I will be keeping your words on silver linings in mind as I struggle through the rest of the season. I hope your winter isn’t too long and hard this year!
I hope yours isn’t either – especially with all the moving madness!
I live in the South and can imagine that the snow must often be a gigantic pain to deal with on a daily basis, but your lovely photos sure make it look like a beautiful, peaceful winter wonderland.
These are beautiful images. It looks soo peaceful and serene to me. Of course, coming from someone who’s never seen or been in real snow. I can’t wait to be able to see this sight with my very own eyes one day. Thanks for sharing and hope everything will get better soon.
Lovely pictures. I used to live in New York where snow was the norm. It’s beautiful to look at, but can be a mess traveling in it. It was nice to look at your pictures though because it reminded me of how beautiful it looks when it’s new. I live I NC now and we rarely get snow. Thanks for sharing your pics with us. ( :