It's snowing again today. I kind of like it. Growing up in the northern reaches of the world gives me an appreciation for the snow that most people around here lack. They just don't get the cold. They crave the obscene warmth of the summer, when I'm usually dying for the windy chills of winter. This season is just so much fresher. The air is crisper. It has that taste in it, the taste of cold and cigarettes and western winds and falling leaves. Summer doesn't taste, it just feels, like salt and heat and energy and evaporating water. This culture, it's all about feeling. Nothing else, just the immediate gratification of fun and joy and life. There's no experience, no taste, no smell. Something about that kind of kills me on the inside. Maybe it's because I wish I was living up in the northern reaches of the world again. Maybe it's because I wish people would be more, real.
Of course, there's the other thing about winter in this region. It's the whole driving thing. There's a definite lack of control when in comes to people and their automobiles. I don't know how to explain it, because I rarely drive an automobile. But it seems that the entire idea of traction to people has been completely phased out of their minds. If you want to see one of the saddest sights in the world, come south in the winter to a temperate that has recently received about 5 inches of snow. There will about thirty cars driven into culverts and ditches within a one-mile distance.
It's sad people can't drive safely. Or maybe it's sad because we've lost so much control.
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