Snow in the evening, snow in the morning, snow in the North, snow in the South.

A cab driver at home has trouble reading signs.

We pull over and scream for strangers (or I do, as I gaze at blurs through my contact-less eyes).

A cab driver here races other drivers, and speaks of the pride and honor of Iranians.

An older woman walking to work stops at a street corner and makes a snowball. She smiles and drops the ball.

A family makes a snowman, using a beach pale.

It’s snowing in March, everywhere.