Snow Job
...written on 2001-02-04, @ 16:33:18
Tales of Kim's Life in Japan
Sat January 20, 2001
I sighed as I pulled the window curtain closed. It was snowing. I told Hide (He-day) yesterday that there was to be no more snow this winter, and now look at it, just piling up.
I reluctantly pulled on my only pair of snow boots. These were the ones that melted snow seeped in the last time I wore them, but I haven't had time to go shopping for some new ones, so in my backpack, I placed an extra pair of socks, shoes and a towel to dry my feet off when I got to work.
I really don't do snow very well. For the past 4 years I had been living in the southern United States and once I found out how much snow I could count on seeing here in Japan, I knew I would be missing my Georgia winters something fierce. Oh heck, I'm sure my attitude will lighten up once I get some good boots.
Anyway, I put on 4 layers of clothing: turtle neck, purple sweater, purple jacket (have I told you I like the color purple? It probably saved my life one day ( When I was a young woman, I wore purple ), and my big black overcoat. I slung my backpack over one shoulder, and out the door I went.
Clomp, clomp, crunch, clomp, I went, peering out from beneath my scarf and hood. Everyone else was carrying an umbrella. Before long, the front of my coat looked like I'd done a snow angel face down in the snow. For the time being I felt no cold water creeping into my boots, so I allowed my mood to lift a little.
I smiled as I watched the black-coated high school boys careen down the bike path, the snow stuck to their raven hair like a white helmet. The leaves of the bushes along the sidewalk looked like mini scoops filled with sugar. I even watched a dove as it made a meandering wreath of claw prints in the snowy cover on the bridge. The trees, cut and trained into large scale bonsai looked as if they bore 3 layer cakes with white frosting on their limbs. I stopped to inspect a set of footprints which must have been made by either a giant or a long jumper, for the footprints demonstrated a very wide stride.
I was almost to work now and so happy about still having dry feet, that I started to deepen my own stride and swing and sway a little, pretending that I had a sword on my shoulder, and began to sing a little ditty:
"I walk like a Samurai through the snoooooooow!"
I thought about the other night when the snow fell as I was walking home. I had been dreading the feat of fighting the flakes, but as I walked down the dark side street under the train bridge, I listened as the snow made whispered landings on my umbrella. It sounded like big butterfly kisses or moth wings tapping on lighted glass. Whish, whish, whish.
My anti-snow mood mellowed and even melted when I turned the corner of the dark street to feast my eyes on the red brick brightly lit historical street that leads to my apartment. It looked like we were all in a snow globe version of Oliver Twist. People were out shoveling, kids were out playing, it looked like a lovely winter wonderland.
My family will no doubt think I am a stranger, knowing full well of my previous snow and cold aversions. I think it's fun watching my changes.