Last night the snow fell.
Scampering around like a family of frantic field mice,
we pulled shovels from the back of the shed,
removed forgotten items from the yard
and added twenty minutes extra to
tomorrow's travel plans
to deal with the
"weather."
After everything was done,
I stayed to watch the snow coat the branches of the trees
until they were as beautiful as a freshly iced cake.
The plunging temperatures caused some
to pull up the collars of their coats
and stamp an annoyed dance
onto the icy ground with their heavy boots.
I chose to watch
the golden light spill from the windows
of the houses onto our street.
It looked so cozy;
all these families gathered for a hot evening meal,
all these families gathered for a hot evening meal,
while their humming furnaces
sent soft plumes of smoke
sent soft plumes of smoke
into the darkening sky.
This frozen, wet stuff...
It's just rain, really.
Is it more annoying
because it's going to stick and stay?
Surely snowflakes
are a form of enchantment;
falling, frozen stars,
light as air,
each one sculpted, unique, miraculous.
They gather here and there
with an artist's flourish
and make something new from what was old.
Or, they melt and freeze again,
allowing us glimpses into other worlds
that only winter can help us find.
Whichever way you choose
to view it,
I welcome the snow
and all its wonder.
