starched white and water wet.
Trees heave their heavy branches in surprise,
autumn leaves not quite shed.
Shrubs and saplings reduced to ground-hugging mounds under the load.
The dog takes a first few tentative steps off the deck,
then bounces and rolls in recognition,
trying to lure me into a game of tag,
his favorite winter sport.
The rumble of snowplows,
the squidge of traffic on slushy pavement,
the drip of the eaves,
the woosh and whomp as snow lets loose on the garage's metal roof
and plants a glacier-like mound in front of the door.
The warmth and aroma of the woodstove,
the loving smell of hearth and home.
The quiet peace that only a power failure can provide.
The exuberance of children on a snow day.
unexpected, much appreciated . . .
SNOWBALL FIGHT !