Photo by bookjunkie
I had one day to pack my bags. B had a last minute business trip to Boston and wanted me to come. There was the tiny possibility of snow. It was the middle of March in Boston, and getting warmer. I dug out my black canvas suitcase. The yellow piping would help me not miss it on the turnstile. I packed enough clothing for 5 days and charged the batteries for my phone and camera. The next morning the company car picked us up and we were on our way. As we boarded the flight, I felt the usual anxiety. Up till that point I had been overwhelmed with excitement. When the plane was preparing to take off, intense fear took over. My eyes squeezed, I silently prayed that we would return home safe. This was the worst part about flying. The extreme fear upon take off and landing. Soon we were up in the air and I was distracted by the service in business class. I was not used to this much leg room or pampering. The slim stewardess in her form fitting sarong kebaya asked “Would you like any drinks or snacks?” Soon I was sipping my pineapple juice and immersed in my Murakami novel. This was the longest flight I had ever taken.
By the time we landed and switched flights from Jersey to Boston I felt grimy and groggy. So this was what being jet lagged felt like. Once we reached the Westin in Boston I was happy to take a bath and sink my head into those luxuriously fluffy pillows.
The next morning B had to go off for his conference. I was still half asleep when he announced “Hey it snowed last night, come see”. My heart leaped. Looking out the window, I saw thin blankets of snow on rooftops of buildings. After a hot shower I went downstairs for a bagel breakfast at the hotel Starbucks. The wooden benches outside the hotel looked pretty with thick white cushions. As I looked closer I discovered that the cushion was snow. I decided that breakfast could wait. I walked outside and picked up some of the snow in my hands. It felt like very finely crushed ice but softer. Soon my hands became numb and I dropped the ball of snow I had compacted. The ground was thick with snow and I could feel the cold dampness in my track shoes. Just then I felt something floating by my face. Soon there was a flurry of fresh falling snow. It was magical and surreal. I stuck out my tongue to catch a falling snowflake. I turned around, a little embarrassed that someone would see me. I felt like such a country bumpkin, but I had never felt such joy. It was the joy of the first discovery. For years I had experienced year round summer. This first introduction to winter, refreshed my soul.
