everything has been hush in this snowstorm. at work, the hallways were emptier than usual with several out of town on trips and then the weather warnings prompted early departures from another few. by the final hour last night, there were a handful of us dutifully chugging away, every so often heading to the windows to watch the wind made visible.
the streets filled steadily throughout the day. tromping around in it was difficult, especially in harvard square with all the bricks. the snow was compacting a bit, but remained fluffy enough that it was difficult to walk through. and the snow went sliding on the bricks, so i was both walking with high, wide steps, and trying not to skid everywhere by bringing my feet down as carefully as possible. walking was a lot of work. i ran a few minutes late in the morning, and a few minutes late at night. few cars or pedestrians out, everyone either on time or altering their schedules to avoid hazardous road conditions. less traffic, what traffic there was muted by the soundproofing of the snow. white snow and gray shadows showing up against the the snow banks simultaneously as it fell. monochromatic magic.
practically everyone i know in the area has been hit with some form of whatever flu and cold is current. most recently, nate fell victim. he has spent the last three nights in a feverish, glassy-eyed stupor trying to find any corner of the couch or bed that is at all comfortable, while his white blood cells and the infiltrating germs do their war. the house is quiet, while he naps, or forces himself to eat, or stares off at distant points, or tries to stay focused enough to watch some tv or listen to something i have to say. most of the time he's sleeping, his body grinding to a halt and i think of him as prisoner of the fighting forces - forced into a still and mute battleground. i poke around online, i read, i watch anything i can find to which he might otherwise object. i make myself a plate of pasta, i listen to him breath hard in his sleep, i get a little stir-crazy and roam the rooms and settle back down somewhere with nothing better to do than before.
but everything is safe around me. no skidding cars out of control, no power lines down. heat, and food, and power all available. i made it to work. i made it home. all is well. i'm going to make some pancakes, and in a few hours i will venture out to boston for a movie, and maybe walk myself into the public garden for some fresh air. all is well. just very still, and very hush.
p.s. - dad left yesterday for a cruise somewhere warm. he's missing all the northeasterly fun.