I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, ‘Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.’
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All articles filed in winter
early comes the encroaching night
golden hour has warmed
the brown of dry leaves
to bronze
An extravagance of snowflakes
Winter doesn’t always bring snow to my neck of the Middle West. Sometimes we get freezing rain, sometimes we get 60-degree days in February, and sometimes we just have long stretches of frigid weather where the ground turns rock-hard and the faces of the limestone bluffs become encrusted with stalactites of ice. But this season the snow has visited us again – three times before winter even officially started, and twice more since the new year.
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