The Snows of Yesteryear

Essays in Idleness #31
Translated by Meredith McKinney

One morning after a beautiful fall of snow. I had reason to write a letter to an acquaintance, but I omitted to make any mention of the snow. I was delighted when she responded, “Do you expect me to pay attention to the words of someone so perverse that he fails to enquire how I find this snowy landscape? What deplorable insensitivity!”

The lady is no longer alive, so I treasure even this trifling memory.

Captured by the teasing tone and the poignant passage of time.

And so for day 2817

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