Imagine stepping outside a few Wednesdays ago, an abrupt greeting to gusts of wind and a blinding white burying the stray trash and cigarette butts littered outside. You race for your snow boots and beanie and run for the hills. I, on the other hand, got a glimpse of the Arkansas School for the Deaf shortly after stepping out myself, and saw a plethora of families sledding and enjoying what to them is a lovely day off.

I then quickly made my way back inside my apartment and enjoyed some nice movies. I enjoy living in the south for a reason: the warmth. If I wanted this, I would go to the Big Apple or Chicago; now you are telling me I need to go farther south to evade some white, cold dust falling on me? I’ve heard that snowfall will only increase as the years go on due to global warming, but I digress. I won’t say snow is completely abysmal. It can be quite photogenic; in fact, I took many pictures throughout the snow storms, and I think they came out wonderfully. Of course, in a poetic sense, you can walk freely on the ground without a single thought of what you’re stepping on. That, I can definitely appreciate. It removes an element of consequence that is commonly in motion.

As a child it fulfilled me to see white covering the streets and sidewalks, but when I see it now, it is more of a distraction. It makes me think of another layer of isolation. People couldn’t get to stores, couldn’t get medicine they needed to operate daily, and they couldn’t even see their few loved ones that they still see. Personally, I had to make two or three unbearable hikes to purchase necessary goods and to visit a close-by friend. I don’t necessarily mind the entrapment that snowfall produces, but I know plenty of people I call friends who do. The snow was cold and terribly slushy, but as you look outside today, the ground is clear, the sun is out, and the consequences of where you walk return once more.

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