The commute home from work tonight was amazing.

As someone who has lived in Northern California his entire life, snow is an exotic, beautiful substance seen only on vacations, TV or in Ansel Adams photographs -- never at home. Imagine my delight to find the very mountains I look at every day blanketed in a thick snowfall!

I was sitting in traffic, miserable, when I merged onto highway 280, which faces towards Mount Hamilton and the foothills of east San Jose. Instead of the usual drab brownish-green hills, the horizon was like a beautiful scene made in Bryce. As I worked my way home through the gentle ebbs and swells of traffic, I was scarcely aware of the brakelights as I took in the magnificence looming on the horizon. I wondered if everyone else was in as much awe as I was. I really wanted to roll down my window, point, and yell to everyone, "Look! Look!"

I think a lot of subtle forms of beauty are lost on people, but what goes through the minds of the masses when they're bludgeoned over the head with something so amazing?