Dense clouds, thick fog – a night above freezing. Snow sticks. We roll it into a ball so big we can’t roll it any more
and top it with two more for a snowman twice the size of the one we made yesterday.
The sun comes out. Haze lifts away into the sky.
Driving, everything still seems lifeless – gray, hard-edged, motionless – but for the birds. Swirls of black dots spin long, curlicue threads in all directions, all higher. Three large geese cut a diagonal over 8 lanes of traffic
to remind me I am not free.