Back to a slightly more normal week of work and living after snow and sickness altered the norms for a while. The snow was a letdown, alas. The streets were never blanketed in white and the grass tips pointed through what did stick to indicate this was a failed attempt at a winter wonderland.
When we do get a decent snowstorm, I love the way the snow covers the ground and all surroundings to erase as many manmade interventions as possible. Pavement and street markings, sidewalks and parking places all disappear under a duvet of white, almost allowing your imagination to envision that "this is what it looked like around here a hundred years ago"--before we developed the heck out of every nook and cranny and strung phone lines and electric cable allover the daggone place.
I tend to get a time-travel sensation at night when the snow is whirling down from fog white mists. I almost expect to see a horse drawn carriage appirate out of the veil, white powder dusting the coachman's top hat. When the fading dusk light makes snow glow an eerie blue, to the dark of night when snow appears brown but beautiful under halogen lights, I think that snow is god's way of saying, "Look--this is what it used to be like here. See how pretty it was before you littered it with all of your mess?"