the 10 minute storm

I was sitting at work today, swamped for most of it, but, finding a short lull, managed to slip away to the atrium to enjoy a fine winter display. The snow moved in like a fog from the west, barrelling down Indiana Avenue, and disseminated near-blizzard conditions for the better part of ten minutes. I stood at the window watching the flakes, larger than normal, dash and dive and lean on the wind current for strength. The buildings in the downtown area create havoc of even the mildest wind. I applied my vague knowledge of Brownian motion to their movements but couldn't come to a determination as to whether they were in pursuit or flight. There were lines of strong currents that moved the snowflakes entangled nearly horizontal to the ground. In contrast, just below the window, a pattern of lulls became apparent- like the beat of song. As the storm moved past, short clouds and blue sky, the seeds of a beautiful afternoon, began to stand at the origin of the storm, and just as quickly as it came, it departed, like an unwelcome guest who knows his time to leave. I went back to work in a solemn mood. I had lost a friend.