New Year's

I am a few days late posting this, but it is worth recording.

At midnight, the dawn of the new year, I was walking down Willow Street, alone, outside in the blizzard. The snow made it impossible to see too far ahead or behind. All around me I caught auditory glimpses of traditional new year's... laughter, music, and, as midnight rang, an explosion of fireworks, muted through the snow. I couldn't really see the fireworks, but I could hear them, and smell them, and being outside, I felt a part of everything, but apart from everything. It was an odd, odd feeling. I reflected on my choice not to go to Natalie's, my choice to be where I was at that moment, and headed where I was and decided that whatever other choices or happenstance surrounded me, I was exactly where I should be in that moment.

Alone. Snow blind. Not too cold. In my city, a part of it all, but apart from it all. Happy.

I always want to make such things portentious. Maybe I should let that go.

There were two vignettes I witnessed: two young teenage girls with noisemakers and no coats dancing in the middle of the street, enjoying being awake and a part of the grown-up scene of NYE, but clearly not quite sure why they should be enjoying it. ("THIS IS SO MUCH FUN.... right? Isn't it?")

And three young adults standing by my church lighting fireworks in such a way as to lead me to expect someone to leave with singed eyebrows. Luckily for them, their lighter was sputtering to an end as I went by.