Streaks of white flash past my windshield
like I’m entering hyper-space,
hoping not to be hit by space debris
(or other cars)
’cause that’d end my trip real quick, wouldn’t it?
No one really likes driving the highway home
through a snowstorm.
Where’s Han Solo when you need him?
I love when I am standing in the snow, pretending to dodge the oncoming flakes – in a car it’s not so cool.
This is a paragraph from a novella I just submitted, actually…
He watched the snow go past his eyes, like a human Millennium Falcon dodging meteors, then followed a set of flakes as they fell from the top of a tree to the ground. He focused on one flake, then, and watched its progress until it joined the legions already stacked up, trillions strong.
The allusion is strong with this one.
Reblogged this on Inside the Mind of ME.
The juxtaposition of blinding white and darksome night is the most fearful of my memories of living near Flagstaff, AZ.
A couple of years ago we were in Arizona in December. I quite liked Flagstaff. If we’re looking for ‘winter places’ that’s a good one. DH pointed out he’d want to avoid snow (there was a skiff of it on the ground) and I pointed out if he wanted to ride (he’s a road cyclist) it was only 45 minutes to bare desert to ride, but Flagstaff was actually pretty, unlike the bare desert! I know some people really love the desert, but I fail to see the attraction of all that dirt. I suppose because I live amid mountains and lakes. I love blue and green. Brown depresses me.
We walked all over the downtown admiring Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary church, city hall, the library…