It’s snowing right now, my first snow in Vermont. I don’t go outside much at night here, the absolute darkness makes me nervous and I limit my trips after dark to walking to and from the car. I even try not to look out the windows at night; I’m not used to having a great yawning void staring back at me. But tonight I stood on the deck, the falling snow illuminated by the porch light. I’ve certainly seen snow, I’ve grown up in New England, I’ve taken walks by myself in a wintery Boston plenty of nights in the past 12 years. But I’ve never seen a snow like this. I’ve never seen snow against pure black, where if you look up, you lose all sense of your surroundings and where the ground is. I stood on the deck for 30 minutes in the cold, crying in the snow, staring up into the sky. Dizzy. I’ve had a weird year. If I’m truthful, I’ve had a weird several years. I don’t really know where I’m going or what I’m doing but through a series of bumbling mistakes and hard work, I’m here in a place where the snow is so beautiful it makes me cry.