The other day whilst walking a misdelivered letter over to my neighbors’ mailbox, I reflected that having snow on the ground for a week or more was rather nice, as if we had gone back in time a bit or lived further north. It had been a warmish day and the snow had achieved that soggy heavy quality, perfect for snowmen and snowballs. I reached down, made one (a snowball, that is), and threw it toward the garbage can. Miss.

In the middle of the day and a half storm that brought the snow (a day and a half storm!), I plugged in my meager string of outdoor lights, and they have not been off since. A bit of a waste, yes, but I like seeing them against the snow in the early morning and especially in the dimness when I return home from work.

And as one could see the very process of the snow melting and watering the grass and trees, it was not difficult to imagine it as nurturing, maternal. I tried to go for a triple crown of sorts by penning a haiku, but these many snow haiku must do.