Thanks, You

Winter 2011, ZeroImage Pinhole
Shelby Park, Nashville

I had someone I don't know reach out to me yesterday to offer encouragement after reading my recent posts. It was a kindhearted gesture. Thanks, you, for gifting me a much needed and appreciated boost. It reminded me, I need to be more kindhearted to strangers, it's how we improve this world.

I woke this morning to snow. Not enough to keep me in bed away from work but enough to give me a smile. Living in Nashville means snow is a rare occurrence. We're on that just-might-snow-but-probably-ain't-gonna geographic line. It's common for folks just north of us, and east of us on the Cumberland Plateau, and west of us to get lots of snow each year. Could be Nashville is hot enough, urban enough, bad ass enough to repel the snow angels.

Snow is joy, laughter, happiness, and all that cheese. Maybe the brightness created by reflecting light serves as a fleeting panacea for seasonal affective disorder. Maybe I still remember sledding as a child, then as an teen, then as an adult, then as an adult with child. Maybe because of its rarity, although rarity does not translate to happiness...I mean the plague is rare...so maybe that's not it.

After our last big snow, the kind that shuts down Nashville for a week -- meaning more than a couple of inches -- I reverted to being a child for a few days. I bundled and trundled my ass to a nearby friend's manor. We drank and cooked and smoked and sledded a small hill.

This morning when I woke up and looked out the window at less than an inch of snow knowing I had to get to work and wishing I didn't, that memory gave me a smile. Thanks, Nature, for gifting me a much needed and appreciated boost.

Here's video of sledding a small hill in 2016. I wish I could Groundhog Day that snowstorm endlessly.