It Snowed

This was not a pretty snow. A pretty snow has lovely large flakes that dress the trees in dainty white outfits, and then it quickly melts and one can go on about the afternoon without worry.

This was a mean snow, the front that moved through yesterday and last night. This snow came in slick and small, but with great speed. At times the snow turned into a freezing mix, then a cold rain, and then back to snow. It brought wind with it, and the trees did not dress up but instead burrowed their roots into the cold ground to hang on.

Morning brought an intriguing sunrise. I caught the reflection on the mountain tops, the snow already gone from the pines and cedars.

Around lunchtime, after listening to the winds howl and occasionally watching the snow ghosts dance like monsters in the front yard, I realized that at some point the wind had become a carver.

It left a roundish circle in the front yard, where I'd earlier seen it acting like a snow tornado, the wind whirling around as it pulled the snow up from the ground to spread it elsewhere, into drifts in the fields and along the roads and driveways.

I was sorry I did not catch it as it was making its art, that I'd instead been tending laundry or answering email, or simply staring out the wrong window.