Whiteout

If I look to my right, I can see a half-empty parking lot, full of cars hidden beneath a blanket of new snow. Headlights, like tired eyelids, are poking out warily from beneath the brows of so many hoods, waiting to lurch to life on the way home which will, hopefully, be not too far off. Leafless trees are waving, defying the airy flakes gathering en masse, knowing they will have the last laugh with the inevitable marching in of springtime.

If I look to my left, I can't see anything except a whitened window.

After spending nearly 20 hours editing a 15-minute video over the past few days, it will be nice to put the final polishing touches on it at home tonight, a mug of hot chocolate beside me and my Pandora.com playlist faithfully chugging away while winter, not quite in its death throes, struggles to blast the Great North one more time.

I'm going to miss these Minnesota winters next year. But then, it will be nice to wear a T-shirt and jeans in January, and run errands in February without waiting for the engine to warm up first. It's a trade-off, to be sure, and all things considered I'll take warm weather over its chilly counterpart any day of the week. But still, there's just something about a Minnesota snowstorm (not to be confused with a Nebraska snowstorm, which would be melted by this time tomorrow) that makes me feel...alive.