a parody of snow
Flakes the size of your hand, a riot of colors, and noisy – wisecracking, chuckling, snickering piles of leaves pretending to be snow. Telling jokes, they keep cracking up before they get to the punch line. They try to hold still, then fidget, jostle for a better position, and then burst out laughing. All day I hear them rustling. Leaves. I’ll miss them in the cold, black and white silence of winter.
windows open
There’s nothing quite so refreshing, and calming, and peaceful-sleep-making as the smell of a house with its windows wide open for the first time in spring, welcoming a breeze full of the promise of rain.
I cleaned the garage, washing out winter’s salt and sand, and
early spring’s mud.
Last night’s moon started out big, warm and yellow, but by this morning,
at 3 degrees, it was small, cold and white. It stayed cold, too – peaking
here at about 14.
There’s nothing like cold weather to point out all the leaky doors
and windows in a house. I spent some time this morning stuffing some
stubborn cracks around the front door. It’ll be due for a complete
re-weatherstripping come spring.
I also lugged all of our junk back into the garage (with the new floor) -
well, most of it, anyway. The rest I hid under the porch where I can
forget about it for a while.
