Write something which has to do with: snowfall.
Woke this morning to the first major snowfall of the season. Max, naturally, was fascinated:
Also: desperately wanting to go out and play in it. We got there not long after breakfast, though the majority of our time outdoors was spent with me pushing him around the orchard in the wheelbarrow - his idea, not mine.
It was like pushing around a squirming pile of wood.
Silent, fluttering flakes sashay down, down, down. Each patterned crystal has a destination: a fence post, a tree branch, a rooftop, truck bed, abandoned toys. Mostly though? They end up on the ground, piling on top of each other like frozen white pancakes.
Forgive me. That started so poetically before veering off course until it crash landed on breakfast. I should have known better than to aim at such lofty heights. It's just... well, I'm not a particularly smart man. But I'm smart enough to realize that, and with that awareness comes a desire to keep my stupidity hidden.
Behind words, behind silence, whatever it takes. But I have been found out, as usual. It never fails. I have yet to find a disguise that I'm able to maintain for any length of time.
Maybe I should let go, embrace my fate. Like those snowflakes out there. They're not fighting it like I am. Not a care in the world as they tumble from the grey clouds above this city I claim as my home. It seems so simple, really. Just go where the wind takes you. Accept that you have no control. Sounds like a pretty happy existence to me.
Maybe I should go up to the roof and join the snowfall.