When I was a kid, I noticed that just before it snows, the gray sky is tinted pink. I’m looking at it now, and I’m expecting flurries any minute.
I remember the first year after I moved here. My heart leapt the first night I looked at the space above my bedroom curtains and saw the pink sky. “Snow!”
These moments before the snow have a different feeling, too. There is something dampened, calmed, waiting, patient with the patience we all wish we could muster whenever we wanted — waiting for medical results, stuck at a long stop light when we’re late somewhere, yearning to find out if we’re loved in return.
The sky is getting rosier. I give it 20 minutes.
(Unfortunately, the color of the clouds doesn’t show in the photo…)