There was much ado on the radio waves (ie. at least two mentions) of impending 25cm snow event overnight which decided not invade us. Yesterday in the preamble to the main event, I drove South on the highway and grains of snow were pooling on the road and swirling east like a sweeping brush was attacking them. It was quite beautiful. Perhaps it was something in the combination of travelling and speed and the wind sweep that created this patterning. It is the very first time I can report a ground level weather event. Usually when weather reaches the ground it’s finished. It either piles or pools and that’s all there is to it.
More impressive than the lack of the promised 25cm was the rise last night of Clarice Lispector’s The Passion According to G.H. translated by the marvelous Idra Novey. It was a toss up between playing my very first League of Legends game online or reading Lispector. LOL would take a further 27 minutes to download while Ms Lispector and G.H only required opening the cover.
13 pages later, I knew I had made the most appropriate choice. Rich, precise it went straight to the muscles that desperately needed it. I subsequently, immediately ordered and posted a copy to a friend. Lately several such things have turned up in my post box. The other night I wore a dress to an event for the first time that a much loved friend had dispatched by post from Brussels. A book landed this week written by another friend, which I opened and read in the post office and some months ago Maira Kalman book turned up from the kind thoughts of someone way across the country. That was pure delightful. Ah humanity and life, how they both provide.