Three months from now, when you are stuck in traffic in a humid April rain, you will close your eyes for half a second. You will remember the sound of nothing. You will remember the weight of a silent sky.
It feels like the atmosphere has grown a protective coat. A fur coat for the earth. I first noticed Snowfur™ when I was seven years old. snowfur tm
There is a specific kind of snow that falls only a few times in a lifetime. It isn’t the frantic, sideways sleet that stings your cheeks. It isn’t the wet, heavy slush that soaks through your boots before you reach the mailbox. Three months from now, when you are stuck
This is the other snow.
But Snowfur™ is the apology from January for being so harsh. It feels like the atmosphere has grown a protective coat
When you step outside during a Snowfur™ event, the world becomes auditory velvet. The crunch of your boots is muffled. The traffic on the main road sounds like a distant river. The only clear noise is your own breathing, and perhaps the tiny pat-pat-pat of flakes hitting your hoodie.
Snowfall, Memory, and the Magic of Snowfur™ : Why Some Winters Feel Like a Hug
