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There
is an unspeakable comfort in this winter watching snow fall in the early
evening. In a mist of icing sugar, the city pardons itself for retreating
at twilight. Still visible are the street lamps on Fuller Rd. They, too,
are softened, meandering their way up to the North Campus. Cars are going
slow, nonetheless, steadily moving homeward. There is a feel of unity of
all things. One could easily walk into this misty softness of night with a
peaceful mind: The reed singing of separation for thousands of years shall
rest, and there is no more need of thorns to teach a rose to laugh. Maybe I
will try to play Auld Lang Syne tonight.
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