Feminist, Fictionista, Foodie, Francophile

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

The Blue Hour

It's been a really long time since I've lived somewhere it snowed. I've lived in Europe and states up and down the East Coast, and all of them got their share of snow. (In New Jersey it would sometimes drift over my head.) The whole time I lived in California, it only snowed once in a place where I was living, an inch in Northridge, just before the big quake. It barely coated the ground and yet people were calling in "snow days." Hah. Amateurs.

One of the things that fascinates me about living in the Pacific Northwest is that the light is different here. We'll have days where the sun is almost bronze in a gray sky. My bedroom faces southwest and the sunsets are sometimes apocalyptic looking. And this is what it looked like yesterday at midmorning when the snow was coming down thickly. The light went all blue. It was really pretty.

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