Tracking down show-stopping bugs in unfamiliar code is always fun.

Actually, it’s not. So I take breaks between attempts. This time I looked out the window and saw gently falling snow.

The flakes look soft and fluffy. The evergreen in the parking lot across the street has a picturesque coating of white. I can imagine a quiet stillness outside. Sounds normally close and loud instead seem distant and muffled.

I step outside and am greeted by the chilled air. My jacket is still upstairs and unneeded in the mild weather. The cloud cover has muted the sun, precluding the need for shades. The normal sounds of the light industrial district I work in are missing. The nearby highway is silent. I see a car in my peripheral vision before I hear it. It glides past nearly silent. Standing there I close my eyes for just a moment.

For a moment the bitter cold of the last three months hasn’t happened. The returning critters are silent. The demands of the office faded. The craziness of a fast sale and pending close forgotten. The need for a place to go and a means to get there unimportant. For a moment.