I don't mind these snowy days.
In February they are the bride's flowing cumbersome veil.
It's lovely, but we don't have to trip around in it much longer.
Neighbor Rick is shoveling again this morning.
Our mailman,Dave, has to slog through virgin snow, again.
It's all about texture and light..
The Cardinal warily watches for the hawk.
None of his fellows have hit my windows since the silk forsythia boughs went up.
It looks wintry, but the real forsythia will soon be in bloom.
The light on the kitchen counter yesterday, told the real story.
I'm all aglow.
You call this a snowstorm? It's white. It came from the sky. But . . . it's late February.