How appropriate is it that we begin the new year with a fresh blanket of snow. A metaphor for a fresh beginning. Just in time for a new semester as well. My time spent back at my home in Atlanta was short-lived and interrupted by the impending threat of snow. If you know us Georgians, you would be familiar with our tendency to all freak out at the mention of the white fluffy stuff. Of course I would rather spend my time snowed in at my parents house rather than the insanity that is Atlanta, so I made the drive home. Last night I sat on the porch bundled in two blankets just watching it fall. Each flake fell as if it was in a race to reach the Earth. Everything is more beautiful buried under snow. Much cleaner and more pure. I almost don’t want to step foot in it as I wish to maintain its purity. I have not entirely abandoned my childhood desires of missing school because of snow and still pray for the delaying of my classes on Monday. My day was spent close to the fire reading “The Invisible Man” by H.G. Wells with tea and hand and looking out the window to see my sweet pup Nellie rolling around in the snow. I can’t avoid classes forever although I wish I could spend all my days this way.