Yesterday in the late afternoon,
I passed the shop window of the couturier Remshardt, who has his beautiful showroom in my street and always delights me with an artful custom dress in the shop window. He creates dreamlike dresses.
In front of the said window stood someone and curious as I am, I looked to see what was going on there.
Yes, this snowman was.
I said something in a bit of hurry, like this is a pretty snowman, and I wanted to go on as I was being talked to and the moment I realized it was a friend who likes to think about things I like. Thereupon I helped a bit more and the result photographed.
A real city snowman, isn’t it?
The Snow Man by Wallace Stevens
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,
Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.