cold snap

It's uncomfortably cold here in Texas this week. Blackouts are rolling around Austin like a pinball. I'm chugging coffee like it's beer. Our cat is nesting under a comforter as I type. It's so weird.

Sunday, in contrast, was the most beautiful day any of us had seen in awhile. I was outside with my dad, my sister, and baby Eleanor that afternoon sporting my favorite sunglasses and a smile that could have conquered anything. Indian summer is what it felt like, something out of a novel, some day in the life of a loveable character within which he or she realizes what the next chapter of their life might be. That day dug its heels into me deep. It was clarity I didn't even know I was asking for.

It'd be silly to imagine that the cold snap which immediately followed was just for me, to wake me up and jolt me upright, make me pay attention to everything around me. But it does seem odd that such sea changes have happened in my tiny little life alongside such drastic changes on the thermometer. I like it because it feels like a movie somehow. It feels important. That makes me smile.

Either way, it got me thinking about the word "snap." Walker Percy has great things to say about language...notably that all you have to do is repeat a word (even one you use regularly) over and over for it to suddenly sound odd and/or powerful. Percy claims that we let words rule us. We think about ourselves and those around us in direct relation to the words we employ. Words randomly placed...they are like songs on a mix-tape. They're windows into the truth. "Snap," I decided, perfectly exemplifies this dark, cold week here in Austin, TX. Thousands of people woke up in the dark this morning, snap. I stubbed my toe on a freezing cold bathtub edge, snap. Pull you coat tighter, snap. Say goodbye to something you absolutely loved, snap. Whether it's the weather or a feeling or a moment. Snap.

Cheers to words and trying to find the right ones.

Stay warm, Spring is coming soon.

xoxoLA