Ara Ara’s Mind

1/10/25

{AN: Experiencing snow for the first time in years was magical. Sitting outside and watching it all come in made me feel so refreshed. So new. I felt inline with myself and I felt capable of creating without caring about where it would go. Recommended listening- You Could be an Angel by Ella Mine}

Almost as if all at once it started to snow. The soft puff as it hits the ground. The start of it slowly falling and turning into light dots of water. Then, in its downpour, turning everything around it slightly white as it reaches the temperature to stick. It sounds almost like static; radio silence. Prickly but soft. Consistent but not overwhelming.

What are you supposed to do when it snows? How do you not stop everything to watch the flakes fall? How do you care about being cold or wearing the right clothes? How do you not marvel? How, how, how?

In an instant I watch the ground turn white. I think about the snow landing in the trash pond behind my apartment. I think about the way it will, hopefully, rush and flow when all this snow melts. I watch the cars parked below to see if the snow is sticking to them.

Then I think I think about work, if I will have to go in tomorrow. Then I think about my partner who is still at work. Then I notice the cars still speeding down the side street, like it isn’t snowing, like they have seen snow recently. Then I think about my mom’s concern and worry for my heat and safety. But I still don’t care because I have watched a branch get covered in snow in a matter of seconds. The cracks in the road have started to fill up with it and the car’s side mirrors have some stuck to the top of it.

I was struggling to write today. None of my emotions I wanted to put on paper, but having the urge to write. I have been trying all day, a Nick and George fanfiction that will never see the light of day, excerpts and thoughts for Backbone; the current novel I’m working on, I even toyed with writing for Confusing Period; a project I haven’t touched since September.

I have been struggling to create. Every thought of The Sims and crocheting just not as exciting as it was before; as it usually is.

And then snowfall. And then my hand is on paper before everything gets covered. And then I’m searching for meaning in the snow. And then I find it.

The day started gray and slow. Stagnant. Then out of nowhere everything started to become white and soft. Fresh.

So maybe I’ll write something new, something to comfort me. Maybe I’ll pick embroidery back up, or do one of those jewel paintings, or build the book nook my partner got for me two Christmases ago, or clean up my third save in The Sims; the one I’ve had since I started the game.

But if I’m honest, I’m going to write. Because of course I am.