Today I went for a walk in the snow in my college town. The sidewalks and the apparently lifeless tree braches were all heavy with ice and snow, like a winter wonderland. I walked up the hill from main street, past the church across from the public library with the comfy brown leather chairs in the loft upstairs, towards the cemetery. Then I took a left towards the park and turned left again, down the hill this time, until I wound up back on main street.

Picked up groceries. The broken glass from the car accident was still there, swept into a little pile at the intersection at the edge of the parking lot.

Spinach, mushrooms, peppers, onions, tomatoes, sweet potatoes, bananas, eggs, cheddar, pepperjack, coffee beans and coffee creamer, chocolate and bread and butter, olive oil and salt. Salad dressing, garlic bread, olives, hot sauce, lettuce mix. Peanut butter and bananas. I feel rich. Food is so good, here. I should be a cook.

Picked up Steve Rogers and then drove back towards the city, and then I accidentally missed the turn off the highway to get home. The land on the side of the highway is covered in trees which are covered in snow, the road weaves its way between ponds that are covered in ice. Winter.