Snow

White at last covers the green grass that insulted the season of the year until today.

It began snowing mid-morning, while the carpenter fixed a broken headboard. By the time he sallied forth, check in hand, it was sticking.

Tonight, walking my elderly dog in the snow, our path was lit by a huge orange ball of a moon reflecting off the frozen snow. She was the most cheerful I've seen her all week, until she got stuck, splayed out on the ice in the driveway. I helped her up and we made it back inside where it was warm again. Then, after lifting her onto the couch, I went out again to rescue the summer potted geraniums, fooolishly blooming thier heads off under a drift.

All's well in the world as long as Maine can still have snow.