I'm back... oh yeah, I'm sure you're excited and have wondered where I've been.  Why just... what was it?... three blogs posted and poof, no more?  It's okay to laugh.  It is pretty hilarious.  But geez, blogging is a tough job.  You should try it some time.  I was leery at first... doubting my ability to write.  Gosh darn it, I can write.  Stupid to think that, when I've received A's in all the writing courses I've taken in college and at the culinary school.  I suppose you need proof of my writing skills, huh? ... Okay, so here's a short essay of a captured memory entitled "Snowflake Serenade" ----
    It was late December in Portland, Oregon, and I was working with my boyfriend on the night shift.  We would always take our breaks together, often times forgoing food, and opting for walks around the property.  I had many wonderful and engaging conversations with him during these late night walks.  We found a great deal of emotional and intellectual connection, which greatly enhanced our relationship.  One night, it began to snow outside, one of those rare Oregon central valley snowfalls.  As we watched the show from inside the building, with our noses pressed against the window, we decided that when break time rolled around, we would definitely skip lunch and go for a walk.  I had no idea that it would be a walk I would not soon forget.

    It was the silence of that night and the breezeless air that invited my sense of quiet indulgence.  It was a night without words, for that would spoil the serenity of the moment.  Instead, conversations were held in lover's eyes
and our touches were speaking volumes in Braille.  The air was cold enough to see my breath mix, boil and intertwine with that of my boyfriend's.  I watched as it slowly disappeared, faint wisps consumed by the black of the star-filled sky.  The snow itself was falling so softly, so silently that each flake was identifiable for its own unique beauty.  The entire area surrounding us was alive with dancing diamonds of snow.  The glistening reflections twinkled like the tiny sequins sewn upon each little ballerina's dress.
    The moon was just shy of being full, and the whole world seemed illuminated in an iridescent glow.  It's incredible the way snow reflects moonlight, shadows and light each vying for position, giving way at the edges to blur gently together, unlike the sharp contrasts the sun and shade share during daylight hours.  The crunchy carpet that had formed under feet gave way to a feeling of discovery, a feeling that we were the first to set foot upon this hallowed ground.  Looking over my shoulder were our two sets of footprints left as evidence of our passing.  One set was small and delicate, another large and confident.
    As we moved onto the tree-lined walkway, we became acutely aware of each and every delicate, leafless branch.  The snowflakes had come to rest upon the top of the individual twigs, covering the naked skin of the tree with a blanket of snowflake comfort.  My boyfriend drew me closer, holding me in his warm embrace.  I imagined him as my tree of strength and I as his blanket of snowy warmth.
    We walked in silent contemplation through the park that night.  Both of us understood the need of our senses to embrace this moment.  We allowed ourselves to be transported away from the busy lives we lead and freely gave into the majesty of that magical moment in time.  I was so moved by the splendor of this walk and the love that emanated between us.  My eyes became swelled like clouds swollen with salty rain.  The tears began to roll down my cheeks to join the dance of the snowflakes and become one sparkling drop after another.  My boyfriend must
have noticed my emotions surfacing and stopped to face me.  As I looked up, embarrassed by this emotional indulgence, I was met with ocean blue eyes; they too were wet, allowing the waves of tears to crash upon the shores of his cheeks.  We truly were having the same intimate exploration of our feelings.  A tender kiss between us added another passage, another page, and another chapter to the book of our lives that we write together.
    I will always think of that night as something beyond my comprehension.  It is as though we were, just for a moment, in a big budget Hollywood romance movie.  I am not sure I will ever experience a night like that again, but it does somehow make my dreams a little more real.