Snow on a blue spruce is about the prettiest thing you’ll see in winter. The color combo is just so striking. It’s like white frosting on a red velvet cake – perfect duo.
I read somewhere, prolly in The New Yorker (cause I’m fancy), that “blizzards make peasants of us all.” Enjoying nature is a peasant’s pleasure. It’s also the pleasure of a guy trying to get in his 10,000 steps for the day through deep snow.
In high school, my friend Len and I wrote our take-home Humanities exam together, and we took it very seriously. I remember writing: “Pieter Bruegel painted peasants. Actually, he painted pictures of peasants. No peasant wants to be painted on. Not at all.”
That year, Len had a buffo line in his paper on the Battle of Thermopylae. As best as I can remember: “After the fight, the Persians cut off Leonidas’ head, but he didn’t care, because he was already dead.”
Other things that make peasants of us all, according to Google: our supreme literary overlord; poor battery life on cell phones; tragedy; fear; the battle over Richard III’s bones; and the Public Option.