The last (wind) storm brought me inside to meet the editor of the new lit mag Filter, but last night’s snow is canceling Jennifer Borges Foster’s reading tonight at Ravenna Third Place Books. (See my write-up in The Wire, here.)It’s cold, clear and gorgeous outside the Weekly’s downtown offices, but apparently the roads outside of downtown are still slick. Until our recent patch of stormy weather, Seattle has seemed blessed by global warming – a few more sunny days than usual and no one was complaining. But actual rain (as opposed to that misty stuff that used to fall when I moved here back in ’95) is no longer rare. Recently, I heard about a friends’ parents who had a special roof installed so they wouldn’t have to hear the sound of rain. In this town, that never used to be a problem, and well, for East-Coast transplants like myself, listening to the sound of rain is a romantic thing. Tonight’s poetry reading is yet to be rescheduled, but let’s hope that we’re spared any more eventful weather for awhile…A line out of Jennifer Borges Foster’s brand new literary magazine, from a poem by Rebecca Hoog seems especially apt for today: “This is a lament for the snowless. / A lullaby of low and less. / A mum ode to slowness.”