#349: The Snow on the Line
A change of view
A telephone line stretches across my window, usually ignored. It’s functional purpose is important, but the line crossing the window is negligible. Or it was until snowflake after snowflake clung together on this small area of common ground. Each ice crystal coating the black line, until it camouflaged with the whitened sky.
I wondered if the line was cold. Were all the little telephone messages shivering inside? Would they reach their port of call or get frozen on the journey? Perhaps they were huddling together for warmth, only splitting off to their different destinations at the last possible moment?
I wondered if the flakes had planned this descent. Had they chosen the line as an ideal vantage point to survey the snow-covered town? Or was every other landing spot taken, the line a last minute choice? Perhaps it was a fun tightrope, a game to see which flake could hang on the longest.
The snow, as snow does, unintentionally brought my attention to this mundane object, something I see everyday, but never really see. By becoming fused with nature, part of the landscape, this dull line through my outlook suddenly caught my eye.
And more than ever I am enjoying those moments — the little changes that refocus your surroundings — and spending ten minutes of the day looking at a phone line.
