Jan 9, 2018
Our friends insist they are not romantics. When they were married in Philadelphia half a decade ago, an unexpected storm had shut down the city. No one showed up to open the church that day so they were married in the snowy lot outside, the drift coming up to their knees.
They celebrate their anniversary on the first snowfall of the season not because they are romantics, they insist, but because they are bad with dates. The result is that they never quite know when it will be. When the snow starts to fall, they make a reservation, they uncork a bottle.
They insist they aren’t romantics, but when they tell us this, I swoon.
This year, we were in Philadelphia for the first snowfall of the season. We are from the Pacific Northwest; any precipitation that isn’t rain is always