I Thought It Snowed

I thought it snowed last night.  The morning was cold, drawing the color out of my face like a wintry syringe.  My breath mocked and danced before me, flying up to join the clouds that were as gray and threatening as a waiting battalion.  The branches of the trees meshed together to form a black spiderweb that extended the length of the street.

It was that cold.  Most of the flowers had receded into the warm, mothering earth.  But the roses braved the silvery, shivering air – roses, pale and white, huddled inside leaves that held them like cupped hands.  But at first glance…I thought they were something else.  These winter bouquets dissolved into a solstice vision that emerged from a long night.

To me, the rose gardens were flocked with the evening's snowfall.  I saw melting landscapes, patient under a chilled, crystalline frosting.  I saw snow as soft as mittens, although made of sharp-edged and serrated snowflakes, their images a kalidoscope of knives. 

The gentle, rose-colored scent froze in the bitter air just as my breath had done.

The whiteness that I saw was as pure as a Beluga's, as depthless as a polar ocean.  It was alloyed with shadows of sapphire and cracked into filagrees of ice.  I peered closer, hoping to see tracks of reindeer and fox; looking for paths embroidered with tinsel and fallen arctic stars.  But all I saw were thorns and the offended petals.  And I drew back again.

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8 responses to “I Thought It Snowed

  1. from what depthless polar ocean do you draw your prose i wonder and have wondered …

  2. A kaleidoscope of knives! Wow! Greatness.And the last paragraph, especially the ending. The other day here, the snow laying on the ends of the evergreen branches really looked like white-gloved hands.

  3. You make all seasons beautiful, but you might have outdone yourself with snow.

  4. WBaby: Your comment reminds me of a line from 'A Child's Christmas In Wales' – "I plunge my hands in the snow and bring out whatever I can find" Whatever the ocean offers, I will take.
    pyrit: Thank you – I remember staring at the black and white images and that phrase just popped into my head. I was duly grateful for it and into this post it went.
    kitty: I see by your blog that you have an appreciation for snow, too!
    Purplesque: Thanks; I've never seen snow fall, but I can just imagine what a soft rain it must be.

  5. You wrote this without ever seeing snow fall?
    Hmmm.

  6. wow I was certain you had been talking about real roses softly touched by minuscule frozen on the petals much like frost would be.

  7. I was inspired by this talk of snow. In the last week of term my kids were antsy for the holiday to arrive and in no mood for Shakespeare or Klimt. So – snowflakes we did. On black sugar paper with fine brushes and white paint. And their fidgety grumblings ceased and a silence fell into the room – just as surely as that brought by a dusting of snow.
    Thanks for the inspiration, Aubrey.

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