Snowy beach

Perhaps the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen: snow falling on the ocean on a moonlit night.

I spent one off-season living on the coast of Maine. A house in the small town of Wells, right on the beach; at high tide, the lowest steps on the deck leading to the beach would be underwater. It was brutally cold in the winter; the wind off the ocean was frequently numbing and the house never seemed to get really warm. I’d never want to repeat that winter. But…

…but twice–and it only happened twice while I lived there–it snowed at night when the air was still and the moon was bright enough to illuminate the snowfall. Big, fat, fluffy flakes falling with a sort of casual elegance. There was something mystically pure about it, the way the snowflakes would drift down and, at the moment they touched the dark surface of the water, melt into it.

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