tallisker

Yesterday the "snow" felt like tiny shards of ice piercing my face as I battled through it. Today it abounds in fluffy piles glistening under a brazen sun. Snow!
Nothing else is really new besides this cold layer changing the color and topography of even the most familiar surroundings. And this is comforting, this stable stasis, although not necessary.
I've never been afraid of change, see, so when I have too little of it I don't get antsy, persay, but I do feel that the peaceful regularity could be better used on somebody who needs it.
Or maybe I do need it, in order to appreciate the smaller changes that are ignored in constant upheaval. The daily movement of the cat as the sun shifts throughout the room. Or the way the philladendron leaves are broadening and trailing down towards the hardwood floor. Or the weight of my hair that had been short for years, finally reaching past my collarbones. These are all ways to track time, over hours, days, months. I don't know that they point to anything in particular, but I will notice them now nonetheless.