It started out cold, really cold with some freezing rain but a little like I expected from Seattle in the wintertime. I ran in the slush, gloves but no hat with my head steaming from sweat against the crisp air. By the last mile huge fat flakes were floating from the sky, dancing in the streetlights before melting against the warm wet ground. I ran the home stretch with my tongue out to catch the winter petals as they fell. By midmorning there was enough slush kicked up by my wheels that my breaks froze and the petals stuck and I nearly ran off the path riding home. Now the gears thaw and drip in the hallway and my pants are hung to dry on the bed. Four inches later and as the temperatures drop and the flakes become smaller they are whipped ferociously in the wind. The visibility is down to squat and the snow is stacking on the fence posts and it’s starting to look like everything we were told wouldn’t be. It’s starting to look like home and I’m hoping for a snow day.