(Reno, NV) Snow returns in spongy clouds so thick their gray turns purple to match the deep greenish purple of the firs.
Like top and bottom teeth of a well-worn jaw, winter clouds fit their landscape. In Minnesota, they spread in long, rolling sheets. In Reno, they soar and dive to the ground, filling in wherever the mountains leave a gap. Â
To the north, desert mountains covered in snow look like bones – bleached skeletons.
To the east, the sun burns new clouds billowing in from the west – a fleshy, healthy pink. I feel like a surgeon looking inside, “Nothing to do here.” Â
