Klinkenborg’s snow

Verlyn Klinkenborg:


“December,” The Rural Life (Boston: Back Bay Books, 2002).

The sane part of me thinks that snow is best appreciated not from the interior of a moving car but from an unmoving sofa or chair, with a thick layer of insulation — in other words, a house — between me and the weather. But another part of me sides with Klinkenborg. I know that feeling of driving into a vacuum, and I know that I like it, at least in retrospect. See also Robert Bly’s poem “Driving to Town Late to Mail a Letter.”

I’ve been waiting for snow to post this passage. It is snowing.

Related reading
All OCA Verlyn Klinkenborg posts (Pinboard)

[“Abyssal vacuum”: a pun on “a Bissell vacuum”? I hope not. But that’s what Mac Dictation thought I was saying.]