Jan. 27

The view from my window is snow. Tiny flakes that make the air completely white. The sky is white. The ground is white. The lake is white. The only color comes from thedark brown and gray of the bare trunks and branches of the trees and those are accumulating white on their edges. I saw a blue jay and a chickadee dancing around each other hoping one would find food the other could steal. All the deer tracks and bedding areas are now hidden in fresh snow. The coyote tracks have disappeared into a blinding white covering.

The good news is that even in the storm there are signs of Spring- signs of hope. The magnolia is the first to bloom each year. In the fall it makes hard buds. I noticed yesterday the hard shells have opened and the fuzzy, pussy-willow buds have emerged and and are growing. So let it snow. The magnolia grows on, laughing in the face of old man winter. She knows he can't hold out forever.

Cheers~