The flakes were thick and feathery, drifting beautiful disorder to the green, manicured garden beneath me. The carefully cut shapes of hedges blurred to the descent of snow. The sharp lines of stone buildings became a little less certain of their direction. The mountains behind the city surrendered their stern rocks to a hazy white.
Now the sun has ripped open the clouds to reveal a soft blue
sky. From behind the iron curves of my balcony, I catch a glimpse of neighboring
roofs sprinkled with snow as scratches of blue-gray tiles peek through. Even
the biggest of snowflakes have melted now. The green garden is back to green.
The darkened stone of the balcony back to stone. A crack in the distant clouds glows
with the beginning hues of a sunset. An occasional raven slices through the
stillness with its sharp black wings.
I could get used to this much beauty.