A Valentine to Winter

Just when I get really sick of winter, snow falls soft and quiet in the night.  The day dawns clear and pink. The ground glows. Every twig is outlined in white. My walk is transformed into something otherworldly. 


I know the wind will freshen and the snow will shake down from the trees. Eventually, the air will warm, and much of this will turn to an icy scrim. Pond ice will founder and weaken, and the woods melt to gray. But I want to remember winter like this.

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