I was walking through the street of the second snowfall today. Everything seemed….right.
The snow was making friends with the wind.
Bikes grew into legs.
I felt privileged to walk onto the leaf-covered streets. I felt as if I was going to disturb the snow mounded leaves, each hand placed on the street.
A stray dog.
I named him Beau, for he was a handsome Australian cattle dog—I think. Beau was too happy to know that he was going to be in trouble soon. That’s how it should be. Being too happy, too caught up in the heavy limbs, the scattered leaves, and the music to care.
My god, the music.
I listened to Bon Iver’s recent self-titled album on the walk. It was magnificent. It was…overcoming. When listening to Bon Iver, I get really caught up in the lyrics and sometimes neglect the beauty of the music. I didn’t get caught up in the lyrics. I wasn’t trying to figure it out. It had things figured out for me. I was just walking, every step seemed ritualized, this music knew me. It knew when I looked up at the canopy of green-yellow leaves still on the trees, when I was nearly dizzy from trying to follow the intricate pattern of the snow, when the birds would somehow still playfully pass by. It knew. And it knew more than I did. Somehow, I walked 5 blocks east of the street my house is on, then 4 blocks west of it. I live less than 5 blocks away from the building I was trekking from. It should take 15 minutes.
It took me 40 minutes.
My thin jacket, jeans, and TOMS didn’t not agree with the weather. My feet were pools, my hands red—my ears and nose too. It wasn’t until I removed my earbuds that I noticed my casualties.
Then I realized that I had 30 minutes to make it back to my next class, I had 3 papers due in 2 days, all 3 of them unfinished, I had no money, no groceries, no time for listening to music.
I was too caught up to care.
Just don’t press pause.
(a spotify playlist linking to the album is below)