In DC, every snowstorm has a name. “Snowzilla.” “Snowpocalypse.” “Snowmageddon.” When it snows in DC, the world stops. The government stops. The buses stop. My breath stops. The anticipation has long been blown out of our systems. We’ve lost all sense of expectation. It doesn’t snow: suddenly, snow
Thanks for this beautiful snowy and nostalgic and artfully delightful journey you have taken me the reader on! Happy Snomicron! ❄️☃️