Melting reveals paths through the snow like wormholes in old wood.
The ancient snowfield (well, a few months old, anyway) retreats,
leaving its mysteries exposed and abandoned.
Frost at night again – for the first time in several days – stops the thaw.
It holds everything in check… birds, squirrels, rabbits and raccoons
stop short. We rein in our hopes. Not so fast – not yet.