You know, at first, I couldn’t believe my eyes.
Then I took a second look. I carefully scrutinized the scene that was unfolding in front of me as I stood in the middle of the abandoned warehouse, body slack and mouth agape.
Even then, I still couldn’t believe my eyes.
I had entered the warehouse with purpose. Finding a broken window above a long-forgotten dumpster, I had carefully climbed over the shards of broken glass shining under a midnight moon. It took me several minutes, as I took special care to make sure that my camera made it through the precarious clamber unscathed. I was — am, I suppose — a budding photographer, and had embarked upon this nocturnal breaking-and-entering expedition to see if I could catch a stunning scene as it emerged from its hiding place for a nighttime stroll, blinking dazedly in silver starlight. I thought that I might creep through...
There's something magical about the first day of December, especially if it's snowing. Snow in November feels like cheating; it's not really winter yet. But December is winter, and the air isn't just crisp, it's cold, and the snowflakes tangle in your eyelashes as they tumble leisurely down all around you. There's something cheerful, even celebratory, about a snowfall on the first day of December. And somehow, that made watching the friendly snowflakes pile up around the soon-to-be fully grave even more heartbreaking.