The snow is falling, and so am I, and it feels like we’ve been doing this forever. Next to me I see a group of flakes stuck together, the rat king of weather. Occasionally I see something plummet past me. A pack of snow. A rock. A piece of broken wood. I observe my descent with detached non-interest. I am the zen queen of falling things, floating gingerly down, then hard and all at once, landing flat on my back with a thud. The ice covering the stream beneath lets out a loud crack, but manages to keep the water down deep.
Half an hour ago I left the house for my walk. It was shaping up to be a beautiful evening. The sun goes down pretty early here this time of year, and it had just started to snow. There was no wind at all and none predicted, only a light dusting and a calm night. I went out to get some fresh air and catch the sights.
Big flakes were drifting down through conical columns of warm light coming off the lamps in the park. Next year they’re replacing the sodium bulbs with LEDs. It’ll be fine, I’m sure, but it won’t be the same. The way the sodium contrasts against the sky makes the park a painting, with deep orange snow cones popping out against the cold blue background. The LEDs are cheaper, longer lasting, and use less electricity, which is all well and good and I support it, but I doubt they’ll match the beauty of these old lamps. I thought I’d just take it in while I still could, and the snow was falling so softly. I imagine someone else did the same when they switched from gas.
It’s a sizable park, three blocks from the house. If you walk around it the long way you’ll log about two miles, but I like to take the paths through the park. It’s shorter, and so much prettier. A little stream cuts through the middle with two wooden arch bridges crossing it. One has a lovely little roof on it.
I came out the other side of the covered bridge and the snow did something funny. As I walked into the snow, it compressed into a shape a few feet in front of me. I could see the faintest hint of a nose and some shoulders and when I stopped the shape went away. I tried a few slow steps forward again. The shape didn’t appear until I picked up the pace.
The snow would fall, then get caught up in a compressed area where the flakes would shift forward all together, making a shape that mimicked my own moving through the snow. I kept the pace and tilted my head. The snow-shape tilted right along with me. I put my arm out in front of me, my fingers up and splayed, and a faint handprint appeared in front of my snow shadow.
The air was so still I could see my own motion through it. That’s what I thought at the time, at least. Moving through the snow pushed it forward like the old pin boards. Put your hand into the back of the pins and the front holds its shape, except instead of pins it’s falling snow. An effect so delicate that you could only see it under these absolutely perfect circumstances. Still air. Large, lightweight flakes. Overhead light to bounce off them. I smiled at myself for being so lucky. So lucky.
We laughed together, my snow shadow and I, as I danced through the snow with my perfect partner. We twirled, we bowed, we even curtseyed, an act I had sworn off since I was a rebellious teenager sorting out my butchiness. Tonight I didn’t care. It was too fun to watch this snow figure make these outlandish moves. In the quiet of the night I just let it all loose and channeled my inner Audrey Hepburn. The It Girl poised in perfect femininity, waltzing along with my shadow friend. Then a puff of wind came along and spoiled it all. The snow scattered in front of me, then returned to simply and delicately falling to the ground as I moved through it, partnerless.
I sighed and returned to walking, looking back to say goodbye. There it was! Following me now. I laughed and went to give it another twirl, but this time, my shadow did not respond. It stopped me in my tracks. My partner and I stood there together, me looking into my own inverted eyes. I tilted my head, and it tilted with me. It tilted its head and I tilted with it.
The snow compressed into the shape of my leg taking a step in front of me, a vacuum formed, and my leg followed to fill the space. The snow shadow of my head and shoulders leaned forward, dragging me along with it. It was walking me in a little circle, back onto the path, heading our original direction towards the second bridge.
It raised its arm and I fought against it. The air sucked at the skin on my hand, weaving between my fingers and pulling, all while pushing up against my elbow. It was a soft force, but it was insistent and all encompassing. Thick air pressed and thin air pulled and I struggled inside my air pocket. I could make short, quick jerks, but it held my form in place. I could only move a few millimeters against it, then it would be force against force. I couldn’t do much, but it was enough to have an effect, however subtle.
It danced and twirled while I tugged and jerked in my skin. I would tug down hard on the lift and see a bounce in my shadow as I came against it. I worked every muscle hard against it, and then let loose and drove into the movement, using its own momentum to try to shake it. It noticed that and we came to a dead stop.
It brought me into a deep curtseyed bow, forcing my face down to stare into the fluffy snow collecting on the sidewalk beneath me. It held me there, bent down low, while it swirled the fluffy snow into images of my wife and child. It drew two little images. In one they were alone, leaning against each other, crying. In the other they were not alone, and my child was crying so much more energetically. My child’s eyes drawn wide in terror, with Xes in the place of my loving wife’s eyes. A puff of air scatters the snow into a blank white slate and it begins again.
It forced my head down closer. The muscles in my legs and back trembled under the strain of it, but it would not let up as it played scene after scene. Each time it draws out a cartoon horror from the perspective of this body as I would see it while it forced my hand to perform atrocities. Next to it another scene of my wife and child crying and alone. It held me there until my tears washed the snow away.
Message received. I stopped fighting and played along. We waltzed this dance of despair through the park. It bent me into an impossible ballet, pulling out muscles that had long gone stiff while it formed me into the vision of the perfect little dancer. We twirled into the deep orange cone of the old lamp while a swirl of snow spun around the pole. We bowed to it in recognition then put our arms up and spun, sending the tails of my coat out to fill our little spotlight.
I felt my cheeks tugging as it smiled a smile I could not match and we approached the bridge. The snow compressed above it to form a cover so that it matched the first bridge. On the other side of the bridge, a doorway formed in the snow. It danced me forwards onto the bridge, swaying from side to side, lifting the corresponding arm into an arch with each step. It thought it had me, but I saw the ice, and I knew what to do.
We stepped left, throwing up our left arms in an arch above our head. As it started to step right, I pushed hard to the left, building up as much pressure as I could. Then I let go and slammed right, making sure my foot landed on the slick spot. I came hard against the right side of my air column, and the air column fell with me. We crashed over the bridge railing, taking a piece of it with us, and we plummeted onto the ice below. The rush of air from the impact scattered my dancing partner to the wind and left me here, lying on the ice with the wind knocked out of me.
I get up and go anyway. The breathing will either work itself out or I won’t need to worry. I scurry to the side of the stream and grab at the rocks lining it, giving each a quick test for ice before putting on any weight. My lungs decide to work again as I roll up to my feet and push hard against the ground to get running.
I pick up a handful of snow and ice as I get going and throw it fast at the door. It sails through, creating a wind eddy that blows the snow around and erases the structure. I run, joyously and as quickly as possible.
Twice I nearly see its shape, trying to get me to look it in my eyes again, but I look away and keep going, all the way to the back door, where the wind rushes against my back and the snow swirls angrily around me until I open the door and step into the warmth of my family. Safe and sound.