Missing: Stars from Tonight's Sky

There were no stars to be seen in the sky as I drove home tonight - usually I look up and out to the left side of the driver's seat, dangerously not swerving in direction with the rest of my body, cause I'm a pro stargazer. Even while driving. Even if that means I compensate the multitasking by slowing to crawl-mode on the driving part.

Usually, this is okay because I have a nightly routine conducive to star-drive-gazing:

1. Leave the library sooper late, preferably past 12am.
2. Drive zoom zoomy all the way down 29, catching all the green lights cause no one is driving perpendicularly at this hour; almost no one is driving at all.
3. Make the right turn onto Rio [rye-ohh] from 29, dramatically decrease speed. The whole road is yours. This means almost home.
4. Crawl-mode: on. Swerve head (but not car) left and up, looking up and out my side window at all the stars that come out to glitter upon escape from all the light pollution that is metropolitan UVA.
5. Gaze. Drive, too, a little. All the way home.

But there were no stars to be seen in the sky as I drove home tonight.

Cause they were scattered all over humble earth, blanketing the roads the cars the stores the people's eyelashes with the fluffiest sparkliest most beautifullest gentlest-glowingest snow-stars I ever did see.

step 1.5. take endless pictures of snow scenes on the way from lib to car

Dah. The beautifullest. The bestest.
The cold-redeemingest.