This morning, I was pleasantly surprised by falling snow; snow that
stuck around for a little while, even though it wasn't a lot of it. I
took photos, wrote poetry, then it began to melt. By 10 AM, it was
half-gone, and by now, there are barely any traces left.
Yesterday
there was snow three times and a good little hailing as I worked at a
friend's place to tidy things in her yard. Nothing stuck but the
cleaning that got done. Then later, leaving my growth group, it was once
more snowing yet not sticking.
Today was the second
time anything has stuck all winter where I live, while many others
around the city have seen it several times. I guess I just chose a great
place to live for those who don't like snow. Thing is, I'm one of the
people who enjoy it tremendously, so... as cocks crowed and crows cawed
and cars crunched through the silently falling field of white this
morning I was thankful. Thankful that though there wasn't much snow,
there WAS some. Thankful that there was enough to whet the appetites of
those of us who enjoy it but not so much that people couldn't get around
or that they missed work because of an overload of it.
I got
to thinking how much I enjoy snow but also about some of the other
seasons' delights... below is a poem I wrote a few years ago during one
such moment of delight...
Ripples
Ripples criss-cross
The waters of the slow river
Trout and salmon jump
In loops through the air
The light gleaming off
Of their iridescent skins,
Catching rainbows
Momentarily, into the air,
Surrounded by the ripples
Of splash-down as the
Trout and the salmon
Continue on their way.
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