"Snow," says Claire, at the very moment a hailstorm of doves erupts upward from the brown silk soil of the yard next door.
"I'll always remember the first time I saw snow. I was twelve and it was just after the first and biggest divorce. I was in New York visiting my mother and was standing beside a traffic island in the middle of Park Avenue. I'd never been out of LA before. I was entranced by the big city. I was looking up at the Pan Am Building and contemplating the essential problem of Manhattan."
"Which is-?" I ask.
"Which is that there's too much weight improperly distributed: towers and elevators, steel, stone and cement. So much mass up so high that gravity itself could end up being warped- some dreadful inversion- an exchange program with the sky. I was shuddering at the thought of this. But right then my brother yanked at my sleeve because the walk signal light was green. And when I turned my head to walk across, my face went bang right into my first snowflake ever. It melted in my eye. I didn't even know what it was at first, but then I saw millions of flakes- all white and smelling like ozone, floating downward like the shed skin of angels. Even Alan stopped. Traffic was honking at us, but time stood still. And so, yes- if I take one memory of Earth away with me, that moment will be the one. To this day, I consider my right eye charmed."
"Perfect."'
- Generation X by Douglas Coupland
This day was an exceptionally beautiful day. The sky was clear and blue and icy, and the sunlight on the snow made a dizzying sparkle on the Earth, as though somebody had covered it in glitter while everyone else was asleep. I felt myself overcome with awe and gratitude just looking at it. I felt alive, and homesick for being alive all at once. Today isn't how I'd like to remember Earth, though. I'll come to that later.
"I'll always remember the first time I saw snow. I was twelve and it was just after the first and biggest divorce. I was in New York visiting my mother and was standing beside a traffic island in the middle of Park Avenue. I'd never been out of LA before. I was entranced by the big city. I was looking up at the Pan Am Building and contemplating the essential problem of Manhattan."
"Which is-?" I ask.
"Which is that there's too much weight improperly distributed: towers and elevators, steel, stone and cement. So much mass up so high that gravity itself could end up being warped- some dreadful inversion- an exchange program with the sky. I was shuddering at the thought of this. But right then my brother yanked at my sleeve because the walk signal light was green. And when I turned my head to walk across, my face went bang right into my first snowflake ever. It melted in my eye. I didn't even know what it was at first, but then I saw millions of flakes- all white and smelling like ozone, floating downward like the shed skin of angels. Even Alan stopped. Traffic was honking at us, but time stood still. And so, yes- if I take one memory of Earth away with me, that moment will be the one. To this day, I consider my right eye charmed."
"Perfect."'
- Generation X by Douglas Coupland
This day was an exceptionally beautiful day. The sky was clear and blue and icy, and the sunlight on the snow made a dizzying sparkle on the Earth, as though somebody had covered it in glitter while everyone else was asleep. I felt myself overcome with awe and gratitude just looking at it. I felt alive, and homesick for being alive all at once. Today isn't how I'd like to remember Earth, though. I'll come to that later.
First, I want to share this song.
. re: stacks- Bon Iver
Its melancholy, ethereal and perfect for watching flurries of snow through panes of glass. Vernon's sublime vocals guide you through the mind of a man who has given up- a wasteland of loss, alcoholism and apathy- and rarely are such things so beautiful or soothing. The artwork is by Alex Witjas.
No comments:
Post a Comment