The last two weeks have been kinda unkind. I've been tossed from shore to shore... from sunny San Jose into bitter cold Omaha and Lincoln (free beer for anyone who can point it out on an unmarked map) and then onto a snow storm in New York. Now, while I may grudgingly go along with Ganya to the occasional skiing holiday, I'm no polar bear. Gimme sun over snow, and rain over sun anyday!
But I'm finally beginning to understand what people see in this ... snow. So my colleague and I arrived in Omaha at noon and we didn't have to be at the focus groups till 6. We had a good 4-5 hours to kill in hip-n-happening Omaha. And we did what any hot blooded woman would do on a cold cold afternoon with boyfriend not around and 4-5 hours to spare. We shopped! By the time we got out of the mall, it was dusk and the evening had a weird golden glow from the heavy air and the flood lights.
It was then that it started to snow. Little flakes of white nothingness wafting down from nowhere. As we made our slow progress towards the car- clutching each other and taking cautious short steps in our high heeled boots on the iced ground - it started snowing harder. Millions of glowing snow flakes were making their way carefully towards the ground. And even in the drone of the mall, if you looked up into the sky, it was silent night. It was, at the cost of sounding cliched ... magical!
I remember thinking then that rain and snow couldn't be more different from each other. Rain falls. Snow parachutes and lands gracefully. Rain is loud and sensuous and smells of sex. Snow is Ssshhhhhh. Rain is of the earth, belongs to the earth. And standing there in white Nebraska that day, I got the distinct impression that snow isn't.
