Lets talk a moment about snow in alliteration: It's white, water, and comes in winter.
Now let's talk about snow in Chicago: It's a fact of life and a price I must pay.
I prefer alliteration.
Starting before I moved to this great city, people spoke of The Snow. Friends and strangers advised me on how to cope with The Snow. I was given advise without asking, while drinking, and even when getting a sunburn. When people didn't know what to say, they mentioned it in catastrophic terms. Groups would gather to discuss how I'm from the South and will have a tough time in the winter. Length of coats, undergarments, and the glove v. mitten debate raged around me.
I bit my tongue. Being from the South, I was raised to be polite.
It snowed.
Sweet, soft, silent snow fell over the city Thursday night like a first blanket of winter.
Wonderful, wistful, white snow
